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THE  UNIVERSITY 


OF  ILLINOIS 
LIBRARY 


Presented  in  1916 
t>y 

President  Edmund  J.  James 
in  memory  of 
Amanda  K,  Casad 

SI3 
K(o3(o  U 

ftEMOTE  STORAGE 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 
in  2017  with  funding  from 

University  of  Illinois  Urbana-Champaign  Alternates 


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ISKANDER 


THt 
Of  THE 

UKIVERSITY  OF  ILLINOIS 


“ Sjilittin"  it  asunder,  it  went  down  with  all  its  crew.” — /gC>. 


ISKANDER 


A Romance  of  the  Court  of 
Philip  of  Macedon  and  Alexander  the  Great 


BY 

MARSHALL  MONROE  KIRKMAN 

AUTHOR  OF 


‘‘the  romance  of  gilbert  holmes,”  “primitive  carriers,”  “the  science  oi 

RAILWAYS,”  IN  SIXTEEN  VOLUMES,  AND  OTHER  WORKS 


THE  WORLD  RAILWAY  PUBLISHING  COMPANY 


CHICAGO 


NEW  YORK 

1903 


LONDON 


1 


Copyright,  X903 

BY 

The  World  Railway  Publishing  Company 

Entered  at  Stationers  Hall,  London,  England 
All  rights  reserved 


li.ScL  Bo  Oct'  Z-i' 


c 


rVTT'-'  5 i - 

E NT  S 


CHAPTER  PAGE 


I. 

The  Rightful  King 

. 

9 

II. 

The  Conspiring  Princes 

. , 

. 26 

III. 

Olympias,  Queen  of  Macedonia 

37 

IV. 

Alexander  and  Roxana 

. 

• 54 

V. 

The  Theban  Ambuscade 

, 

68 

VI. 

After  the  Battle  . 

. 

• 77 

VII. 

The  Persian  Princess,  Roxana 

86 

VIII. 

The  Persians 

0 

. 96 

IX. 

The  Wild  Boar  Hunt  . 

, 

102 

X. 

The  Poisoned  Cup  . 

. 

. 114 

XI. 

The  Midnight  Duel 

. 

129 

XII. 

Olympus 

. 

. 140 

XIII. 

For  the  King  . 

• 

154 

XIV. 

The  Sibyl  of  the  Vale 

. 

• 173 

XV. 

The  Lybian  King 

, 

186 

XVI. 

The  Lion  Hunt 

. 

. 202 

XVII. 

The  Princess  Parcledes 

. 

216 

XVIII. 

Alexander's  Return  to  Pella 

. 227 

XIX. 

Philip,  King  of  Macedon 

236 

XX. 

Cleopatra,  Attalus'  Niece 

. 

• 258 

XXI. 

The  Deceived  King 

. 

280 

XXII. 

The  Conspiracy 

. . 

. 290 

XXIII. 

Exile  of  Olympias 

305 

XXIV. 

The  Historical  Banquet  of  Philip 

• 322 

XXV. 

The  Lees  of  the  Wine  . 

, 

340 

XXVI. 

Alexander's  Flight  from 

Pella  . 

• 348 

XXVII. 

The  Prayer  to  Jupiter  . 

. 

366 

XXVIII. 

Glaucus,  The  Barbarian 

. 

• 374 

XXIX. 

What  the  King  Heard  . 

, 

385 

XXX. 

On  the  Battlefield 

. 

• 392 

XXXI. 

The  Death  of  Philip  . 

, 

400 

XXXII. 

The  Fulfillment  of  Life's 

Ideal  . 

• 41S 

0547 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


Page 

‘Splitting  it  asunder,  it  went  down  with  all  its  crew”  . . Frontispiece 

Map  of  Macedonia  336  B.  C 25 

‘For  the  King” 168 


INTRODUCTION 


The  closing  years  of  Philip  of  Macedon  and  the  rise  of 
Alexander  the  Great  are  among  the  most  remarkable  in  the 
history  of  the  world,  and  it  is  amid  the  startling  events  and  savage 
tragedies  of  this  transition  period  that  the  story  is  laid.  It 
was  an  age  of  great  men — of  Philip,  Alexander,  Demosthenes 
and  Aristotle;  an  age  of  fair  women:  of  intrigue,  force,  dramatic 
happenings  ; of  crimes  innumerable ; and,  through  Alexander's 
love  attachment  for  Roxana,  a period  of  romantic  interest. 


Chicago,  June,  1903. 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE  RIGHTFUL  KING. 

“Fair  Pella,  fortress  of  the  plain,  thou  art  my  capital, 
mine,  mine,  thy  rightful  King’s — not  Philip’s!” 

Such  was  the  sorrowful,  half  angry  exclamation  of 
the  Prince  Amyntas,  an  officer  of  exalted  rank,  as  he 
drew  rein  in  plain  view  of  the  war-like  capital  of  Mace- 
donia. Behind  him  a troop  of  Thessalian  cavalry  halted 
in  respectful  silence,  awaiting  with  patience  his  further 
movements.  Their  steeds  and  accoutrements  were 
stained  with  dust  and  sweat,  and  otherwise  bore  evi- 
dence of  a long  and  fatiguing  march,  as  did  those  of  their 
commander.  A page,  armed  with  a short  sword  and 
shining  helmet,  rode  beside  the  Prince,  and  hearing  his 
exclamation,  turned  to  see  if  any  had  heard,  exclaim- 
ing: 

“Do  not  speak  thus,  sweet  Prince,  for  your  words 
would  cost  you  your  life  if  they  came  to  the  King’s 
ears.” 

“Say  rather  the  bloody  usurper,  Orestes.  Yes;  and 
may  the  Gods  forsake  him  living  and  the  furies  that 
haunt  the  dark  abyss  of  death  pursue  him  when  dead, 
for  the  cruel  wrong  he  has  done  me,”  Amyntas  cried, 
furiously,  throwing  his  horse  back  on  its  haunches. 

“Hush,  sweet  Prince,  for  to  wish  another  such  harm 
is  to  call  down  the  anger  of  the  Gods  on  your  own  head,” 
the  young  page  answered  with  a look  of  horror. 

“I  care  not.  I would  I had  the  beast  upon  a spit  be- 
fore a blazing  fire,  I would  be  a thousand  years  in  the 
roasting  of  him,”  the  other  responded  with  sullen  rage. 

(9) 


10 


Iskander 


“Oh,  master,  do  not  give  utterance  to  such  thoughts 
lest,  coming  to  the  King,  they  cause  your  destruction,” 
Orestes  exclaimed,  in  a supplicating  voice,  looking  fur- 
tively behind  him. 

“A  curse  upon  him;  a monstrous  spider,  ever  weav- 
ing a web  into  which  men  are  lured  only  to  be  devoured.” 

“Oh,  sweet  master!  Though  often  harsh  to  others, 
he  has  ever  been  gentle  to  you,  sparing  your  life  while 
putting  to  death  others  he  had  not  half  the  cause  to 
fear.” 

“ ’Twas  but  another  expression  of  his  cruelty,  Orestes. 
To  have  killed  me  would  have  been  a mercy.  For  I,  who 
should  approach  yonder  capital  as  its  King,  now  enter  it 
as  the  messenger  of  him  who  has  stolen  my  birthright. 
Nor  did  he  filch  it  as  man  against  man,  but  while  I,  a 
puling  infant,  could  scarce  lisp  his  name.” 

“ ’Tis  said  he  did  so  to  preserve  his  own  life  and  yours, 
sweet  master.” 

“Do  you  condone  the  act,  you?”  Amyntas  responded, 
turning  fiercely  upon  his  companion,  half  raising  the 
javelin  he  held  in  his  hand. 

“I  know  not  how  it  was,”  the  other  mildly  responded. 

“Then  be  silent.  The  treachery  and  greed  of  Philip 
is  beyond  your  childlike  mind.  ’Tis  only  his  absence 
that  quiets  the  hearts  of  men.  For  see!  Away,  his  cap- 
ital sleeps  in  peaceful  stillness  in  the  summer  sun.  Pre- 
sent, it  would  resound  with  the  cries  of  men,  the  blare 
of  trumpets  and  the  clang  of  hurrying  soldiers. 

“ ’Tis  a grateful  peace,  sweet  Prince,  for  the  wars 
give  men  little  time  for  rest.” 

“Men!  There  are  no  longer  men,  but  slaves.  At  his 
bidding  we  lie  down  in  our  tracks  like  grateful  hounds, 
our  stomachs  empty  and  our  wounds  uncared  for.  Nor 


The  Rightful  King  11 

dare  we  ask  when  the  one  will  be  filled  or  the  other 
cured.” 

“But  if  the  King  exacts  much  from  others,  oh  Prince, 
he  gives  as  freely  of  his  own  body  and  blood,  as  witness 
his  missing  eye  and  open  wounds.” 

“Do  you  excuse  him,  you  fool?  Fie!  For  every 
wound  he  bears  he  has  put  a thousand  men  to  death,  and 
for  his  missing  eye  twenty  thousand  Greeks  were  butch- 
ered and  as  many  sold  to  slavery.  Not  men  only,  but 
weeping  women  and  wailing  children.  Bah!  If  he 
strives,  Orestes,  he  alone  is  benefited,  for  he  rights  no 
wrongs  but  his  own.” 

“Nay,  do  we  not  all  share  in  the  glory  and  wealth 
that  the  wars  bring?  If  we  sometimes  have  not  an  obol 
in  our  pockets  the  King  is  scarcely  more  fortunate.  And 
if  the  wars  are  cruel,  are  they  not  followed  by  peace  and 
security,  things  before  unknown?”  Orestes  exclaimed 
with  growing  spirit. 

“Peace!  Yes,  the  peace  that  follows  the  hurricane  or 
tidal  wave;  the  security  that  follows  the  feast  of  the 
bear.  Today  we  gorge  ourselves,  to  live  afterwards  on 
the  remembrance  of  it.  Ours  is  no  longer  the  life  of 
freemen,  but  of  jackals.” 

“At  least  none  may  molest  us  save  him,  and  that  was 
not  always  so.” 

“Our  wives  and  daughters  were  safer  in  an  Illyrian 
camp  than  near  the  quarters  of  his  Companion  Cavalry, 
such  license  the  King  accords  the  lecherous  favorites  for 
their  base  subserviency.  And  ’tis  by  such  agencies  that 
he  comes  at  last  to  pose  as  a God  while  we  sweat  and 
grunt  without  profit  or  honor.” 

“I  like  not  such  speech  of  our  King,  oh  Prince.” 

“Say  you  so,  stripling?  You  have  not  been  wont  to 


12 


Iskander 


find  fault  with  such  utterances,  knowing  the  cause  I have 
to  hate  the  monster  you  call  ‘Our  King,’  ” Amyntas  cried, 
turning  threateningly  upon  his  youthful  companion. 

“If  the  King  be  as  you  say,  Alexander,  who  will  suc- 
ceed him,  has  committed  no  offense;  he  at  least  is  gentle 
and  true  in  all  things,”  Orestes  responded,  striving  to 
turn  the  other’s  thoughts. 

“The  jackal’s  whelp.  His  appetite  is  not  less  sharp 
than  the  other’s,  albeit  he  cannot  look  a woman  in  the 
face  or  listen  to  the  rustle  of  her  garments  without  blush- 
ing; things  so  sweet  to  Philip’s  eyes  and  ears.” 

“No  one  can  say  aught  against  the  Prince,  try  as  they 
may,  for  he  possesses  every  virtue,  and  each  one  has  a 
counterpart  in  his  skill  at  arms  and  courage  in  battle. 
Fitly  enough  is  he  called  ‘The  Young  Lion  of  Mace- 
donia.’ ” 

“Lion,  thou  fool ! Yes,  if  a yellow  mane  be  all  that  is 
needed  to  make  him  such.  In  some  ways,  though,  the 
name  is  fit  enough.  For  underneath  his  soft  skin  beats  a 
heart  so  insatiable  of  glory  that  the  blood  of  all  mankind 
will  not  suffice  to  slake  its  thirst.  You  are  a fool,  Orestes. 
Was  it  to  hear  such  prattle  that  I have  taught  you  arms 
and  the  graces  of  life?  There  is  no  measuring  the  arro- 
gance of  Alexander  now  that  he  is  given  preference  over 
older  and  better  men.” 

“There  is  not  a soldier  in  the  camp  who  boasts  so 
little,  oh  Prince.  He  loves  glory  as  other  men  do  wine 
and  women,  that  is  all.  And  well  he  may,  for  no  one 
in  Macedonia,  not  Clitus  even,  can  stand  before  him  with 
sword  or  uplifted  lance.  Who  can  hurl  a javelin  with 
such  mortal  hurt  as  Alexander?  You  do  your  cousin 
wrong  in  every  way,  oh  Prince.  For  he  is  in  all  things, 
in  learning  and  chivalrous  courage,  superior  to  other 


13 


The  Rightful  King 

men.  Even  the  King  must  give  way  to  him  in  arms.  Yet, 
for  all  that  there  is  scarce  a nobleman  in  the  kingdom 
as  modest  as  he.”  And  Orestes,  in  his  anger,  losing  all 
awe  of  his  companion,  looked  him  in  the  face  as  if  he 
would  enforce  the  truth  of  what  he  said  with  his  sword. 

“The  fawning  sycophants  yield  him  preference  in  arms 
because  of  his  high  rank  and  thorough  fear  of  the  King, 
not  because  he  is  superior  to  them  in  any  way,”  Amyntas 
cried,  incensed  at  the  youth’s  manner. 

“In  the  trial  of  skill  on  the  heights  of  Edessa,  where 
the  identity  of  all  was  hidden,  he  excelled  every  one  as 
I have  said.” 

“Mummery ! Mummery ! Under  his  complaisant  man- 
ner he  has  the  ferocity  of  his  mother,  and  appetites  as 
brutal  as  his  father’s,  which,  when  satiated  with  blood 
and  the  flames  of  burning  cities,  drown  themselves  in 
beastly  drunkenness.  Or  worse,  seek  some  new  concu- 
bine among  the  creatures  who  await  his  embrace  with 
outstretched  arms  and  inviting  glances.” 

“I  will  not  listen  to  such  foul  speech,  Prince  though 
you  be.  You  would  not  dare  speak  thus  were  I a man,” 
the  other  cried  laying  his  hand  unconsciously  on  his 
sword. 

“What,  canting  slave,  dost  thou  dare  threaten  your 
Prince  and  rightful  King?  Tomorrow  you  will  betray 
me,  your  master.  Shade  of  my  father,  the  mighty  King! 
Is  it  not  enough  that  I should  be  cheated  of  the  throne, 
but  beardless  boys  must  bid  me  hold  my  peace  under 
threat  of  their  displeasure!  Ye  Gods!  ’Tis  too  much,” 
and  raising  his  javelin  in  a frenzy  of  rage  he  hurled  it 
with  unerring  force  full  at  his  unsuspecting  companion. 
All  too  late,  Orestes,  thinking  no  harm,  sought  to  inter- 
pose the  shield  which  hung  about  his  neck.  “There, 


14 


Iskander 


ingrate,  go  before  and  prepare  a place  for  your  idols, 
for  they  shall  quickly  follow  if  flesh  be  vulnerable  to  steel 
or  poison,”  Amyntas  screamed  as  Orestes,  swaying  to 
and  fro  in  his  saddle,  fell  headlong  to  the*ground. 

The  troop  of  horsemen  that  followed,  seeing  the  Prince, 
their  leader,  halt,  had  drawn  up  across  the  road  and 
stood  patiently  awaiting  his  movements,  but  too  far  away 
to  hear  aught  of  what  was  said.  Observing  Orestes  lay 
his  hand  on  his  sword,  followed  immediately  by 
Amyntas  hurling  his  javelin,  Clitus,  the  offlcer  in  charge, 
spurred  forward,  his  face  pale  with  surprise  and  anger. 

“What  thing  has  this  poor  youth  done  or  said  that  you 
should  thus  strike  him  down  all  unprepared?”  he  cried, 
springing  from  his  horse  and  lifting  Orestes’  head. 

“What  thing?”  the  latter  cried,  backing  away,  pale  and 
agitated,  “What  but  to  basely  traduce  the  King  and 
Prince,  and  as  if  that  were  not  enough,  ye  Gods,  he  must 
needs  threaten  me  with  his  sword,  as  you  saw.  In  the 
heat  of  passion,  and  all  unv»risely  it  may  be,  but  out  of 
my  great  love  for  the  King  and  the  sweet  Prince,  I killed 
him.”  And  regaining  in  some  measure  his  composure, 
Amyntas  sighed  and  dropped  his  eyes  as  if  he  could  even 
yet  condone  the  lad’s  treason  in  regret  at  having  killed 
him. 

“Poor  Orestes ! He  slander  the  King,  say  you ; he  who 
thought  him  a God?  I would  not  believe  it  from  one  of 
less  exalted  rank,  Amyntas,”  Clitus  answered,  pressing 
his  lips  to  the  cheek  of  Orestes. 

“Nay,  that  was  months  past,  and  ere  loss  of  preferment 
had  so  soured  him  that  his  tongue  oozed  poison  like  a 
marsh-adder.” 

“You  should  have  disarmed,  not  killed  him,  a mere 
child.” 


'15 


The  Rightful  King 

“Yes,  that  would  have  been  the  better  way,  but  en- 
raged at  his  treasonable  speech  I thought  not  to  restrain 
my  hand.  He  doubly  deserved  to  die  the  death  of  a 
traitor,  for  he  meditated  nothing  less  than  the  death  of 
both  Philip  and  Alexander,  and  so  he  boasted.” 

“I  like  not  to  see  the  blood  of  our  brave  young  nobles 
thus  shed.  ’Tis  not  such  as  he,  poor  boy,  that  the  King 
has  cause  to  fear,  but  those  who  eat  his  bread  while  they 
envy  him  his  state,”  Clitus  hotly  responded. 

“Do  you  insinuate  so  base  a charge  against  me?  By 
the  Gods  I will  send  you  to  keep  the  traitor  company.” 

“Nay,  it  is  not  for  me  to  judge,”  .Clitus  answered, 
springing  to  the  back  of  his  horse  in  all  haste.  “But  stay 
your  hand,  oh  Prince,  for  by  the  beard  of  Cyclops  if  you 
but  lift  it  so  much  as  the  width  of  your  bridle  rein  I will 
kill  you  were  you  the  King,”  and  holding  his  lance  high 
in  air  he  awaited  the  other’s  movements. 

“Nay,  I meant  you  no  harm,  Clitus.  We  are  too  old  in 
companionship  of  arms  to  think  evil  of  each  other.  Put 
down  your  lance.  ’Twas  an  idle  speech.  I mourn  the 
boy’s  death  not  less  than  you,  traitor  though  he  was. 
And  in  proof  of  what  I say,  do  you  stay  here  and  see  that 
the  body  is  fitly  cared  for ; I must  not  lose  further  time  in 
reaching  the  city,”  and  raising  his  sword  aloft,  as  a 
signal  to  the  troop,  he  put  spurs  to  his  horse,  the  soldiers 
casting  pitying  glances  upon  their  prostrate  companion 
as  they  passed. 

Dismounting,  Clitus  sat  himself  down,  and  resting 
Orestes’  head  upon  his  lao  murmured,  a sob  filling  his 
throat : 

“Eye  of  Cyclops,  what  could  it  have  been!  Not  what 
Amyntas  claims,  Fd  stake  my  life.  More  likely  ’twas 
he  who  threatened  the  King,  for  he  bears  him  a mortal 


16 


Iskander 


grudge,  though  Philip  will  not  believe  it.  Poor  boy! 
You  were  too  brave  to  die  thus  dishonored.” 

At  this  Orestes,  as  if  brought  back  to  life  by  the  soft 
speech  of  the  other,  opened  his  eyes,  glazed  with  the 
film  of  death. 

“Must  I die,  Clitus?”  he  murmured.  “You  weep! 
Then  it  must  be  so.  And  the  other,  has  he  gone?”  he 
went  on,  a shudder  passing  through  his  frame  as  he 
sought  to  raise  himself.  “Oh,  ’tis  hard  to  die,  Clitus. 
Everything  is  so  beautiful  and  life  so  new,  and  the  wars, 
Clitus,  the  wars ! But  oh,  the  pain,”  he  moaned,  laying 
his  hand  on  his  breast  where  the  lance  lay  buried,  the 
light  Cretan  shaft  having  broken  as  he  fell. 

“ ’Twill  be  over  soon,  sweet  child.  Think  not  of 
dying,  but  of  the  friends  who  will  mourn  your  death. 
Oh,  I am  crazy,  crazy  at  your  undoing,”  Clitus  sobbed, 
distracted. 

“I  thought  to  have  died  fighting  for  the  King,  not  this 
way,  Clitus,  for  he  was  very  tender  to  me  when  I was 
stricken  at  the  Winter  battle.” 

“Yes,  yes,  and  so  he  will  believe,  let  Amyntas  say 
what  he  will.  Oh  ye  Gods,  did  ever  loyal  page  serve 
so  cruel  a master!” 

“He  was  in  a passion,  Clitus,  and  so  struck  me  down, 
not  knowing  what  he  did.  Hold  it  not  against  him, 
for  he  has  suffered  more  than  most  men  and  is  crazed 
with  brooding  over  his  wrongs.  Lift  me  up,  Clitus — 
how  still  the  city;  and  the  black  mountains — how  they 
top  the  plain ! Oh,  Clitus,  I would  I did  not  have  to  die,” 
he  sobbed. 

“Nor  would  I have  you,  dear  heart,  but  every  one  must 
die,  and  the  soldier  more  quickly  than  another,”  Clitus 
answered,  making  believe  life  a very  small  thing  indeed. 


17 


The  Rightful  King 

“Hold  me  nearer  to  you,  Clitus.  In  your  arms;  I’m 
sinking;  it’s  death,  Clitus,  death.  Oh,  mother — I’m 
dying — mother — save  me,  save  me! — watch — over— the 
— King — Clitus — and — the — Prince, — they  are  in  dan- 
ger. See!  The  Prince,  Clitus.  Look!  He  heads  the 
charge.  Hearken!  The  troop  answer  his  cry!  There! 
The  whirl  of  the  dust,  and  the  thunder — they  strike — 
again  and  again — the  Thebans  waver,  give  way,  they  fly 

— they  fly — ^the  Prince  is — mother,  mother ,”  and 

with  the  whispered  word  upon  his  lips  his  body  relaxed 
and  with  a sob  filling  his  throat  the  young  soldier  lay  still. 

For  a long  time  Clitus  gazed  on  the  prostrate  body, 
tears  streaming  down  his  bronzed  face.  Then,  remem- 
bering how  the  gentle  youth  had  met  his  death,  he  held 
his  clenched  hand  aloft,  crying: 

“May  the  Gods  pursue  and  punish  Amyntas,  the  cow- 
ardly assassin!  To  fall  thus,  and  so  young,”  he  went  on, 
his  mood  changing.  “But  ’tis  only  a day  sooner,  for 
everyone  must  die.” 

“Yes,  but  not  until  our  appointed  hour,”  exclaimed  a 
deep  voice  almost  in  his  ear.  Looking  up  Clitus  beheld 
the  speaker  bending  far  down  over  the  side  of  his  horse, 
scanning  the  features  of  the  prostrate  youth.  “ ’Tis  only 
a faint,  and  his  hurt  may  not  be  mortal  if  the  iron  did 
not  cleave  the  heart;  had  it  done  that  he  would  never 
have  spoken.” 

“Who  are  you?”  Clitus  exclaimed,  starting  to  his  feet 
and  eying  the  speaker  with  kindly  interest,  so  assured 
and  gentle  was  the  other’s  voice. 

“My  name  would  mean  little  to  you,  for  I am  naught 
but  a simple  leech,  following  with  my  slave,  for  greater' 
safety,  in  the  train  of  the  exalted  Prince  Amyntas.” 

The  speaker,  as  Clitus  saw,  was  a man  past  middle 


18 


Iskander 


life,  but  of  such  dignity  and  commanding  presence  that 
his  age  was  lost  in  the  majesty  of  his  bearing.  His 
meagre  form  was  enveloped  in  a long  cloak  which 
reached  quite  to  the  ground,  while  a soft  hat  of  Mace- 
donian pattern  shaded  his  dark  and  piercing  eyes.  His 
beard,  combed  with  the  utmost  care,  covered  his  breast, 
giving  him  a patriarchal  air  quite  foreign  to  the  native 
Macedonian.  Having  made  himself  known,  the  leech, 
without  further  speech,  dismounted  and  knelt  beside  the 
stricken  youth,  pressing  his  ear  against  the  other’s  breast. 

“It  is  as  I thought;  his  heart  still  beats,  though  delay 
in  applying  needed  remedies  would  quickly  prove  his 
death.  The  shock  was  too  much,  worn  out  as  he  is  by  the 
long  and  fatiguing  march.” 

“He  was  already  weak  from  a previous  illness  and  the 
fatigues  of  the  Grecian  campaign,”  Clitus  explained. 

“Yes;  and  see!”  the  leech  continued,  “here  is  another 
wound,  a spear  thrust,  and  but  partially  healed.” 

“Poor  youth,  ’tis  a wound  he  received  in  the  Winter 
battle,  but  made  believe  it  had  healed  when  he  joined  the 
king  at  Cheronea.”* 

“The  new  wound  is  not  mortal,”  the  leech  went  on, 
and  taking  a vial  from  the  pocket  of  his  cloak,  poured 
its  contents  into  Orestes’  open  mouth.  No  sooner  had 


*Properly,  Chseronea.  But  as  only  the  is  sounded  in  this 
conjunction  of  vowels,  it  is  confusing  rather  than  enlightening  to  all 
save  Greek  scholars.  Therefore,  where  these  conjunctions  serve 
no  general  purpose  they  are  disregarded  here  and  elsewhere 
throughout  the  book. 


19 


The  Rightful  King 

he  done  this  than  the  youth’s  eyes  softly  closed,  and  from 
his  lips  there  issued  a gentle  sigh. 

“Ye  Gods!  You  have  killed  him,”  Clitus  exclaimed 
with  flaming  eyes. 

Making  no  answer,  the  stranger  arose  and  took  from 
the  net  fastened  about  his  horse  an  earthen  vessel,  and 
opening  it  allowed  the  liquid  it  contained  to  flow  over 
the  wounded  part.  Now  taking  firm  hold  of  the  javelin 
he  gently  pulled  it  from  the  gaping  wound.  Losing  no 
time,  he  flooded  the  deep  cavity  with  the  soothing  liquid, 
upon  which  the  blood  ceased  to  flow,  the  flesh  closing 
about  the  hurt  as  if  from  a natural  cause. 

“The  wound  is  not  mortal  and  in  an  hour  he  will  have 
regained  his  senses.  But  ’twill  not  do  to  move  him,  lest 
the  wound  open  afresh,  or  he  die  of  exhaustion,”  he 
went  on,  rising  to  his  feet.  “Is  there  not  some  habitation 
near,  where  we  can  take  him  ?” 

“Yes,  yonder  hut,  not  an  arrow’s  flight  from  where  we 
stand,”  Clitus  answered,  pointing  towards  the  river 
Lydias. 

“ ’Tis  more  like  an  ancient  castle.” 

“I  would  it  were  a palace.  ’Twould  be  none  too  good 
for  the  gentle  Princess.” 

“The  Princess?” 

“Yes,  the  sorrowing  widow  of  Menetaus.” 

“The  Princess  Parcledes,”  the  leech  exclaimed  in  sur- 
prise. 

“Yes,  that  most  unhappy  of  women.” 

“I  know  her  history  well,  for  I was  long  attendant 
upon  her  husband,  the  unfortunate  Prince,  during  his 
exile,”  the  leech  responded  in  a low  voice,  as  if  sad- 
dened by  the  remembrance. 

“Perhaps  in  some  atonement,  who  can  tell,  Philip  has 


20 


Iskander 


given  her  this  asylum,  and  here  she  lives  in  close  retire- 
ment with  her  daughter  Eurydice.” 

“Unhappy  Princess,”  the  leech  answered,  scanning  the 
ancient  structure. 

“Kind  of  heart,  she  will  gladly  give  Orestes  a bed,  if 
affliction  has  not  changed  her  nature.” 

“Affliction  makes  mankind  softer,  not  harder.  But 
come!  We  talk  when  we  should  act,”  and  wrapping 
Orestes’  body  in  his  cloak  they  slowly  made  their  way 
toward  Parcledes’  hut.  Approaching  the  river,  they  saw 
beneath  them  a rambling  building  of  rough  stone,  rudely 
cemented,  weather  beaten  and  black  with  centuries  of 
age.  The  stout  door  that  faced  the  plain  was  closed  and 
no  smoke  issued  from  the  roof  to  indicate  that  the  hut 
was  inhabited. 

“I  was  wrong;  the  hut  is  no  longer  tenanted,”  Clitus 
exclaimed,  grievously  disappointed,  as  he  looked  down 
on  the  time-worn  structure. 

“It  does  not  matter,”  the  leech  answered  shortly,  push- 
ing forward,  “a  good  fire  will  soon  make  it  habitable.” 

Reaching  the  hut,  Clitus  struck  the  door  blow  on  blow 
with  the  hilt  of  his  sword,  until  at  last,  as  he  was  casting 
about  for  some  means  to  force  an  entrance,  a tremulous 
voice,  half  choked  with  fear,  called  out : 

“Go  your  way,  stranger,  nor  seek  to  force  an  en- 
trance.” 

* “We  cannot,  sweet  friend,  if  we  would,  for  a brave 
man’s  life  depends  on  our  finding  shelter,  and  that 
quickly,”  Clitus  cried. 

“Who  are  you?”  the  voice  answered  after  a moment’s 
pause. 

“Soldiers  of  the  King.” 


21 


The  Rightful  King 

Hearing  this  the  inmate  of  the  hut  gave  a frightened 
cry,  but  made  no  other  response. 

“Give  me  leave,”  the  leech  exclaimed  to  Clitus.  “Your 
voice  has  too  much  the  tone  of  command,”  and  turning 
to  the  door  went  on:  “We  mean  you  no  harm,  be  you 
whom  you  may ; but  come  as  suppliants,  bearing  the  body 
of  a wounded  youth  whom  no  one  can  deny  shelter  with- 
out offending  the  Gods.  Open  to  us  and  fear  not.” 

“I  am  alone  and  dare  not  if  I would,”  the  voice  an- 
swered, as  if  only  half  assured. 

“You  have  no  cause  to  fear,  for  we  are  neither  rob- 
bers nor  betrayers  of  the  weak.  Open,”  the  leech  went 
on  sternly,  “if  you  would  not  offend  the  Gods  by  your 
perversity.” 

“I  pray  you  wait  my  mother’s  return;  ’twill  be  but  a 
moment,”  the  voice  replied,  but  no  longer  in  fear. 

“Your  roof  will  shield  the  stricken  man  from  the  heat 
and  noonday  sun.  Open  now,  lest  his  death  be  on  your 
head.” 

To  this  appeal  there  was  no  response  for  some  sec- 
onds, but  at  last,  as  if  her  heart  overcame  her  fears,  she 
opened  wide  the  door.  Nor  did  they  wonder  at  her  hesi- 
tancy when  they  beheld  her  face.  For  she  was  but  a child, 
just  blooming  into  womanhood,  and  with  such  gentle 
mixture  of  dignity  and  soft  timidity  that  she  appeared  like 
an  apparition  as  she  stood  looking  out  from  the  lonely 
hut.  Gazing  in  pity  on  Orestes’  slight  form  and  pale  face 
she  exclaimed: 

“You  are  welcome.  No  one  in  distress  is  ever  denied 
shelter  here.” 

“We  ask  nothing  but  a place  in  which  to  lay  the  poor 
youth,”  the  leech  answered,  bending  low  in  obeisance  to 
the  young  girl,  as  if  she  were  a Queen. 


22 


Iskander 


“How  came  he  by  the  grievous  wound?”  she  ex- 
claimed, advancing  to  Orestes’  side  and  tenderly  smooth- 
ing the  linen  tunic  about  his  throat.  “Was  he  of  the 
troop  that  passed  a moment  since?” 

“Yes,”  Clitus  broke  in,  “they  were  frolicking  in  bois- 
terous play,  overjoyed  at  their  return  home;  and  in  the 
scrimmage  the  youth  met  the  thrust  which  came  so  near 
to  costing  him  his  life,  if  indeed  it  does  not  finally  end 
that  way.” 

“He  will  live,  fear  not,  if  he  have  quiet  and  care,”  the 
leech  exclaimed  as  they  bore  Orestes’  body  within  the 
house. 

“He  shall  have  both  here,  I promise  you,”  Eurydice, 
for  such  was  the  young  girl’s  name,  answered,  and  call- 
ing to  a slave  woman  she  bade  her  fix  a couch  for  the 
wounded  man.  Hastening  away,  the  slave  soon  returned, 
bringing  lion  skins  and  sheets  of  snow  white  linen.  With 
these  she  quickly  made  a pallet,  upon  which  Clitus  and 
the  leech  lost  no  time  in  depositing  their  wounded  com- 
panion. 

Refreshing  the  wound  with  soothing  lotions,  and  bind- 
ing it  with  soft  compresses,  the  leech  arose  and  looked 
around  on  the  cool  and  refreshing  room,  exclaiming: 

“If  we  had  searched  the  kingdom  we  could  not  have 
found  so  fit  a place  as  this.” 

While  they  stood  thus  about  Orestes’  couch,  the  door 
opened  and  a woman  of  majestic  presence  and  gentle 
manners  entered  the  room.  Scanning  the  apartment  and 
seeing  Clitus  she  cried  out  with  smiling  countenance: 

“To  what  happy  chance  is  it  that  I owe  a visit  from 
so  good  a friend  and  so  brave  a soldier?” 

“To  a most  cruel  accident,  sweet  Princess,  that  has 


23 


The  Rightful  King 

befallen  my  friend  and  companion  in  arms,”  Clitus  re- 
sponded, saluting  her. 

“You  are  welcome,  but  who  is  the  unfortunate  youth, 
for  he  is  scarce  more,”  she  went  on,  her  gaze  resting  on 
the  wounded  lad. 

“Orestes,  a noble  youth,  page  to  the  sovereign  Prince, 
Amyntas,”  Clitus  replied,  not  trusting  himself  to  say 
more. 

“And  your  companion,  Clitus,  if  it  be  not  rude  to  ask?” 

“I  am  Jaron,”  the  other  interposed,  “a  leech  of  the 
city  of  Hypata  of  Thessaly,  exalted  Princess.  A dealer  in 
magic,  to  those  who  crave  such  stimulant.  But  of  this 
I take  no  account  more  than  of  the  love  filters  in  which 
I deal;  though  in  such  things  I question  not  the  belief 
of  others.  The  first  I use  to  give  hope  to  the  despairing 
and  allay  the  fears  of  the  distressed,  or  for  pay  if  such 
things  are  craved  by  the  superstitious.  But  my  remedies, 
gentle  Princess,  are  those  of  the  leech,  the  distillations  of 
herbs  and  minerals  that  have  been  used  for  generations 
by  my  people.” 

“Enough!  You  are  welcome!  My  hut  is  open  to  the 
wounded  youth,  and  you,  Clitus,  and  this  good  leech. 
Such  as  we  have  to  bestow  we  will  gladly  give,”  she  an- 
swered, going  to  the  couch  and  kneeling  beside  Orestes. 
Gazing  long  and  attentively  at  the  upturned  face,  she  at 
last  bent  over  and  kissed  it,  murmuring : “My  son  would 
have  been  like  him,  Clitus,  had  he  been  spared  by  the 
stern  King.” 

“He  needs  but  quiet  and  good  nursing,”  Jaron  went 
on,  disregarding  her  words.  “His  youth  will  win  him 
back  to  health.  But  you,  Clitus,  good  friend,  need  not 
stay  if  the  King’s  business  calls  you  hence.  I have  naught 
to  urge  me  and  may  remain.” 


24 


Iskander 


“ ’Tis  a thing  I should  remember,  for  I bear  dis- 
patches that  I may  not  delay  longer,”  Clitus  answered, 
and  kneeling  down  he  kissed  Orestes,  murmuring  a 
prayer  to  the  Gods  for  his  recovery.  Rising  to  his  feet, 
he  saluted  those  present  and  without  further  speech  took 
his  departure. 


CHAPTER  II. 


THE  CONSPIRING  PRINCES. 

The  year  in  which  our  story  opens  was  the  twenty- 
first  of  the  reign  of  Philip  of  Macedon  and  the  three  hun- 
dred and  thirty-eighth  before  the  Christian  Era.  Pella, 
the  capital  of  Macedonia,  that  had  so  often  resounded 
with  the  thunder  of  the  Companion  Cavalry  and  the  tread 
of  the  embattled  Phalanx,  now  made  no  sign  of  life  save 
where  some  sentinel  stood  erect  and  motionless,  or  noisy 
children  disturbed  the  quietude  of  the  street. 

The  scene  spread  out  before  Amyntas  as  he  hurried 
forward  was  one,  indeed,  to  have  soothed  his  fiery  pas- 
sions had  his  heart  been  less  sore  or  his  mind  less  occu- 
pied with  its  wrongs.  Far-off,  on  the  distant  horizon, 
towering  mountains  bathed  in  the  blue  mist  of  a summer’s 
sun  met  the  attentive  eye.  Near  at  hand  and  stretching 
away  to  the  lofty  heights  a verdant  plain  lay  out- 
stretched. In  its  very  center  and  like  a glistening  gem 
Pella,  the  fair  capital  of  Macedonia,  stood  revealed.  To 
one  side,  and  without  the  walls  of  the  city,  a squadron 
of  mounted  troops  were  practicing  with  spear  and  sword. 
Nearer,  and  as  if  in  peaceful  industry,  a company  of  sol- 
diers with  lances  of  varying  lengths  were  going  through 
the  formations  of  the  Phalanx,  a thing  Philip  had  con- 
ceived, and  that  no  enemy  could  overcome.  To  the  left 
the  Lydias,  dotted  with  sails  and  slow  moving  barges, 
wended  its  way  toward  the  Gulf,  and  so  to  the  Grecian 
sea.  Beyond  this  a marsh  extended,  half  enveloping  the 
city,  its  green  border  thickly  sprinkled  with  grazing  cat- 

(20) 


27 


The  Conspiring  Princes 

tie.  Of  Philip’s  mighty  army  there  was  no  sign.  For  it 
was  with  the  King  in  Greece,  victorious  at  last  over  the 
forces  of  Athens  and  Thebes  in  that  final  struggle  where- 
in all  went  down  before  his  victorious  arms. 

But  of  this  no  word  had  yet  reached  Pella  and  its  wait- 
ing Queen,  or  the  hushed  wives  and  sweethearts  of  those 
whO’  had  gone  forth  to  battle  for  Macedonia’s  King.  Thus 
weeks  had  passed,  wherein  those  left  behind  scarce  spoke 
above  a whisper,  so  great  and  absorbing  was  the  anxiety 
of  all.  So  it  was  on  that  hot  afternoon  in  August  when, 
as  we  have  seen,  the  sovereign  Prince,  Amyntas,  with  an 
escort  of  horse,  spurred  on  to  the  waiting  city.  Reaching 
the  capital  the  shrill  blast  of  his  bugles  and  the  thunder 
of  his  horses’  feet  startled  the  sleeping  city  and  brought 
its  inhabitants  running  into  the  hot  and  dusty  streets. 
Raising  his  arm  in  salutation,  yet  no  way  slackening  his 
speed,  he  bade  the  trumpeter  sound  the  note  of  victory. 
At  this  the  gaping  crowd  gave  a mighty  shout  which, 
oft  repeated,  was  carried  forward,  so  that  the  whole  city 
quickly  knew  the  courier’s  message.  Sounding  the  note 
anew  as  he  approached  the  citadel,  the  guard  and  soldiers 
loitering  about  the  entrance  hurried  forward,  welcoming 
him  with  uplifted  arms  and  eager  cries.  Disdaining  all 
speech,  except  to  say  that  the  Macedonian  army  was  vic- 
torious, Amyntas  dismounted,  bidding  his  followers  seek 
quarters  in  the  barracks  near  at  hand.  Motioning  the 
guard  to  hoist  the  gate  that  guarded  the  outer  entrance, 
he  hurried  across  the  narrow  bridge  that  separated  the 
city  from  the  lofty  citadel  of  the  King. 

This  mighty  structure  was  Philip’s  work,  and  he  being 
poor  made  it  answer  the  five-fold  purpose  of  a palace, 
treasury,  magazine  of  arms,  fortress  and  prison  of  state. 
No  part  of  this  great  and  impregnable  fortress  remains 


28 


Iskander 


today,  after  the  lapse  of  twenty-two  centuries,  to  mark 
the  spot  where  it  reared  its  lofty  front.  But  the  curious 
traveler  may  still  discern  traces  of  the  island  on  which  it 
stood,  but  so  washed  by  rains  and  river  floods  that  it  is 
now  scarce  higher  than  the  surrounding  marsh.  The 
massive  blocks  of  stone  of  which  it  was  constructed, 
brought  from  the  neighboring  mountains,  were  long  ages 
ago  carried  away  by  Roman  or  Turk,  to  be  used  for  other 
and  more  peaceful  purposes.  Access  to  the  great  fortress 
was  by  a swinging  bridge  across  the  Lydias,  the  citadel 
being  defended  on  that  side  by  an  outer  wall,  interspersed 
with  towers,  slotted  at  irregular  distances  for  its  better 
protection.  From  these  and  the  heights  above,  and  from 
the  castle  walls  as  well,  the  garrison  could  at  will  defend 
the  mighty  structure  with  little  or  no  risk  to  themselves. 

Entrance  to  the  citadel  was  by  an  open  way,  protected 
by  a massive  portcullis  studded  with  iron  and  of  such 
strength  and  thickness  that  it  was  believed  to  be  impreg- 
nable. The  protecting  wall,  within  which  the  gate  was 
raised,  was  thirty  feet  in  height  and  ten  in  thickness.  It 
ran  along  the  margin  of  the  river,  covering  the  front  of 
the  fortress,  and  connecting  with  the  latter  at  either  end 
by  a wall  of  equal  height.  In  the  enclosure  thus  formed 
a strong  guard  was  stationed,  and  here  much  of  the  busi- 
ness of  the  fortress  was  transacted.  Passing  from  this 
open  space  through  a portcullis,  similar  to  that  in  the 
outer  wall,  admission  was  gained  to  an  interior  and 
roomy  court  forming  the  vestibule  of  the  fortress.  This 
spacious  enclosure  was  paved  with  marble  slabs,  its  walls 
being  covered  by  silken  portieres  and  trophies  of  Philip’s 
wars.  In  this  room  the  captain  of  the  guard  made  his 
headquarters,  and  here  the  frequenters  and  gossips  of 
the  court  came  to  meet  their  friends  and  discuss  the  latest 


29 


The  Conspiring  Princes 

news.  Opposite  the  entrance  to  the  vestibule  a protected 
way  led  to  the  magazines  and  offices  of  the  fortress  which 
covered  the  whole  of  the  lower  floor.  On  either  side 
of  this  door  interior  stairs  led  to  the  living  part  of  the 
castle  above.  Along  the  length  of  these  stairs,  at  fre- 
quent intervals,  the  walls  were  pierced  with  openings, 
from  which  resistance  might  still  be  offered  should  an 
enemy  gain  access  to  the  court  below.  At  the  top  the 
stairs  opened  on  an  extended  portico,  upheld  by  marble 
columns  that  looked  out  on  an  interior  court.  Around 
this  the  towering  fortress  rose,  tier  upon  tier,  to  its  full 
height.  For  the  comfort  and  convenience  of  those  occu- 
pying the  gloomy  dwelling  the  lower  story  of  the  fortress 
was  covered  over,  forming  the  floor  of  the  great  court. 
This  was  used  as  a promenade  and  for  the  banquets  which 
the  King  gave  his  officers  and  nobles  at  frequent  inter- 
vals. Facing  the  great  court,  wide  galleries  ran  around 
the  structure,  giving  access  to  the  rooms  of  the  palace 
on  the  different  floors.  Besides  these  others  were  con- 
nected by  secret  doors  and  hidden  stairways,  devised  by 
Philip  for  the  convenience  and  greater  safety  of  the  royal 
family.  The  prison,  a most  important  adjunct  of  the 
fortress,  occupied  the  topmost  story,  access  to  it  being 
gained  by  interior  and  closely  guarded  stairways. 

The  outer  walls  of  the  citadel  were  pierced  throughout 
their  height  by  irregular  openings,  as  in  the  case  of  the 
river  front.  In  its  lower  part  these  openings  were  scarce 
larger  than  a man’s  hand  and  designed  rather  as  a means 
of  defense  than  to  afford  light  or  air,  these  being  gained 
from  the  interior  court.  About  the  cells  of  the  prison 
the  openings  were  somewhat  larger,  these  being  the  only 
means  afforded  for  light  or  air.  Surrounding  the  fortress 
on  the  three  sides  not  protected  by  the  river  there  was  a 


30 


Iskander 


ditch  one  hundred  feet  in  width  and  thirty  in  depth,  filled 
with  water  from  the  river  Lydias.  Beyond  this  for  a 
mile  or  more  an  impassable  morass  further  protected 
the  fortress  against  assault. 

Apart  from  the  main  entrance  and  on  one  side,  and 
so  small  as  to  be  scarce  discernible,  a strongly  guarded 
postern  afforded  ingress  and  egress  to  the  royal  family. 
Here  they  might  enter  or  leave  the  palace  unnoticed,  their 
barges  being  drawn  up  close  against  the  fortress  wall, 
for  of  platform  or  landing  there  was  no  sign.  And  of 
this  door,  it  was  said,  Philip,  because  of  his  numerous 
liaisons,  made  much  greater  use  at  night  than  at  any  other 
time  of  the  day.  About  the  courts  and  balconies'of  the 
citadel  soldiers  stood  guard  day  and  night,  the  regula- 
tions being  those  of  a fortress  in  time  of  war.  Nor  was 
this  a foolish  provision,  for  until  Philip’s  strong  reign 
Princes  and  disaffected  chiefs  plotted  continually  against 
the  King,  not  hesitating  at  any  means  by  which  to  com- 
pass his  overthrow  or  death.  On  the  summit  and  walls 
of  the  fortress,  as  a further  protection,  machines  were 
placed  for  casting  missiles  and  contrivances  for  pouring 
boiling  water  and  pitch  on  the  heads  of  assailants.  Be- 
sides these  there  were  ballistas  for  throwing  stones,  cata- 
pults and  bows  for  casting  darts ; in  fact,  every  appliance 
known  to  that  rugged  and  war-like  age.  Such  was 
Philip’s  palace. 

Amyntas,  gaining  admission  to  the  vestibule  of  the 
great  structure,  found  it  deserted  save  by  the  captain  of 
the  guard,  who  sat  moodily  drawing  lines  with  his  scab- 
bard on  the  marble  floor.  Looking  up  and  seeing  the 
other,  he  sprang  to  his  feet,  crying: 

“Amyntas,  by  all  the  Gods  1” 


31 


The  Conspiring  Princes 

Returning  the  other’s  salutation,  the  Prince  answered 
in  a voice  far  from  amiable : 

“Yes,  Pausanias,  it  is  I,  Amyntas,  the  Courier  of 
Philip.” 

“And  whence  come  you,  good  cousin?” 

“Where,  think  you,  save  from  Philip’s  camp,”  Amyntas 
answered,  seating  himself  and  motioning  the  other  to 
do  the  same. 

“First,  a cup  of  wine  to  cheer  you,  for  you  look  worn 
and  depressed,”  Pausanias  exclaimed,  filling  a goblet  for 
the  Prince  and  another  for  himself.  These  being  drank, 
he  went  on:  “Your  coming  is  most  welcome,  Amyntas, 
for  we  have  heard  nothing  for  days  and  our  nerves  are 
on  edge  from  the  suspense.  What  news  do  you  bring, 
good  or  bad?” 

“Bad,  if  your  interests  lie  not  on  Philip’s  side.” 

“Is  it  so,  sweet  Prince?  I had  hoped  the  contrary.  For 
’tis  plain,”  Pausanias  exclaimed  despondently,  “that  every 
triumph  of  Philip  and  his  aspiring  son,  every  hour  they 
live,  but  the  more  surely  fixes  our  dependent  state.” 

“Touch  me  not  too  nearly,  Pausanias,  for  I am  that 
raw  that  I could  strike  my  own  brother  dead,  if  he  but 
offended  me  by  a look.” 

“Forgive  me,  for  you  have  most  cause  for  anger.  But 
I heard  it  said  that  your  marriage  to  Philip’s  daughter 
had  reconciled  you  to  your  state,  though  it  was  but  a 
crumb  to  you  while  saving  the  whole  loaf  to  Philip,”  the 
other  answered  ironically. 

“Could  any  one  but  a fool  have  thought  the  chaining 
of  his  helpless  daughter  to  my  shattered  fortunes  could 
make  me  more  content?  Nay,  this  new  servitude  but 
deepens  my  hatred  of  the  monster!” 

“Time  will  soften  your  rancor  and  still  your  young 


32 


Iskander 


ambition.  ’Tis  ever  thus  with  the  belated  Prince,”  Pau- 
sanias  answered  in  a voice  to  stir  the  other’s  blood. 

“No;  by  the  Gods,  no!  Each  passing  hour  but  adds 
to  niy  hatred.  I were  worse  than  a shackled  slave,  Pau- 
sanias,  could  aught,  save  my  rights,  move  me  to 
quietude.” 

“ ’Tis  folly  to  dream  of  any  change,  Amyntas.  Only 
the  death  of  Philip  and  Alexander  can  open  a way  to  the 
throne,  for  they  were  never  more  firmly  fixed  than  now. 
No  one,  unless  indeed  it  be  the  King  of  Persia,  longer 
disputes  their  power,  and  he,  ’tis  said,  can  scarce  sit  his 
throne  from  fright.  But  tell  me,  cousin,  is  it  true  then 
that  Philip’s  arms  and  subtle  craft  have  been  crowned 
with  complete  success  in  this  final  trial  of  strength?” 

“Yes,  Thebes  lies  despoiled,  trampled  in  the  dust,  her 
people  sold  to  slavery.  Athens,  so  long  a thorn  in  Philip’s 
side,  has  ceased  her  chattering  and  sits  dumb  and  trem- 
bling beside  her  fish-baskets  and  empty  tribunals.  Seeing 
this,”  Amyntas  continued  with  bitter  speech,  “all  Greece 
will  yield,  save  enfeebled  Sparta.  Thus,  at  last,  the  beast 
sits  enthroned  amid  seas  of  blood  with  none  so  coura- 
geous as  to  oppose  his  will.” 

“I  would  I had  been  there  to  see  the  Attic  wind-bags 
when  they  at  last  collapsed.  Was  it  a hurricane,  Amyntas, 
or  merely  a bad  smell?” 

“They  might  have  won,  the  driveling  idiots.  But  they 
must  needs  oppose  us  without  fit  generals  and,  answer- 
ing Philip’s  taunts,  rush  down  into  the  level  plain  to  meet 
him  on  ground  chosen  by  himself.” 

“It  was  like  them,  Amyntas,”  Pausanias  answered  con- 
temptuously. “But  if  it  be  true  that  Philip  is  now  su- 
preme, nothing  intervenes  between  him  and  Persia’s  con- 
quest. And  v'ith  that  all  hope  of  our  redemption  is  lost 


33 


The  Conspiring  Princes 

forever — if  indeed  Philip  should  live  so  long,”  he  added, 
with  a leer. 

“Yes;  and  as  if  it  were  not  enough  to  rob  me  of  my 
throne,  I must  needs  stay  behind,  so  Philip  avers,  to  guard 
the  women  while  others  gather  the  sweets  of  victory. 
Oh  most  unhappy  fate,  to  be  born  a King  and  live  a para- 
site!” 

“Your  misfortunes  others  share,  for  the  kingdom 
swarms  with  Princes  plucked  from  their  thrones  that 
Philip’s  house  may  grow,”  Pausanias  answered  bitterly. 
“My  own  country  was  once  as  mighty  as  Macedonia. 
Now  it  is  nothing,  while  I,  its  rightful  Prince,  have 
scarce  more  honor  at  the  court  than  the  page  who  holds 
the  King’s  stirrup.” 

“And  rightly,  too,  for  you,  no  more  than  the  other 
captives,  will  raise  a hand  to  regain  your  rights.  I,  only, 
still  hope  and  strive  for  my  own.” 

“Say  not  so,  sweet  Prince.  You  know  not  what  is  in 
the  hearts  of  men.  But  Philip’s  eyes  and  ears  are  like 
the  stars  of  heaven,  so  infinite  are  the  spies  who  watch 
over  the  safety  of  the  state.” 

“To  frighten  cowards,  Pausanias.  Your  white  faces 
and  supple  knees  denote  all  too  well  a lack  of  enterprise 
and  manly  courage.” 

“Has  my  cheek  less  color  than  yours,  Amyntas?  Or 
my  knees  greater  pliancy  ? Point  but  the  way,  for  I,  not 
less  than  you,  will  never  have  a dreamless  night  till  Philip 
and  his  son  are  dead.” 

“Vain  sounding  words!  Amidst  such  vaporings  Philip 
sleeps  in  his  bed  and  picking  here  and  there,  adds  daily 
to  the  number  of  his  wives.” 

“Have  you  done  more  than  the  others,  Amyntas?  No! 
With  greater  provocation  you  hide  behind  the  skirts  of 


34 


Iskander 


Philip’s  child,  while  others,  as  deserving,  freeze  in  the 
open  streets.” 

“Not  so!  While  others  deplore  their  unhappy  fate,  in 
some  secure  corner,  I only  have  sought  to  weaken  the 
King’s  power  by  destroying  his  aspiring  son.” 

“That  indeed  was  an  ingenious  thing  to  do,  if  it  be 
true,”  Pausanias  answered  skeptically.  “Come!  tell  me 
the  brave  story,  good  cousin.  I did  not  think  you  half 
so  enterprising.” 

“No!  the  tale  is  without  point,  and  my  tongue  halts  in 
the  telling  because  of  its  failure,”  Amyntas  replied  in 
sullen  mood. 

“Nay,  that  does  not  matter.  Go  on.  ’Twas  a brave 
thing  to  attempt,  however  it  ended.” 

“Long  I sought  a chance,  but  without  avail,  until  at 
Cheronea  fortune  seemed  to  point  the  way.  For  I fol- 
lowed close  upon  the  heels  of  Alexander,  who  fought  in 
the  very  front.  At  last,  when  in  the  thick  of  the  fight 
he  was  beset  on  every  side,  seeing  the  chance  and  being 
sure,  I hurled  my  spear  full  at  his  exposed  body.” 

“Well,  well,  go  on!  You  at  least  wounded  the  lion’s 
whelp  ?” 

“No,  not  even  that.  For  stooping  suddenly  to  rescue 
Clitus,  who  lay  prostrate  on  the  ground,  the  missile  passed 
him  harmlessly.  And  as  if  this  were  not  enough,  it  must 
needs  strike  Theagenes,  the  Theban  commander,  who,  but 
for  the  blow,  would  have  transfixed  the  Prince  with  his 
uplifted  spear.” 

“Ye  Gods!  It  must  indeed  be  true,  as  Philip  claims, 
that  some  kindly  Deity  watches  over  the  fortune  of  these 
usurping  Princes.” 

“I  know  not,  but  so  exalted  is  Philip’s  courage  that 
he  will  not  believe  harm  can  come  to  him  unless  the  Gods 


35 


The  Conspiring  Princes 

decree  it.  Nay,  he  scarce  believes  treachery  can  exist 
where  he  is,  so  swollen  is  his  state.” 

“You  speak  of  him  as  if  you  somehow  thought  him 
great,”  Pausanias  answered  with  a sneer. 

“I  do,  and  in  that  hold  his  offense  the  greater.  For 
only  small  men,  like  mice,  can  find  excuse  for  filching 
from  the  helpless  when  entrusted  to  their  honor.” 

“Did  not  Alexander  observe  your  flying  spear  and  so 
accuse  you?”  Pausanias  asked,  reverting  to  the  former 
subject. 

“Yes.  Seeing  the  Theban  fall,  transfixed,  he  turned 
about  and  smiled  his  thanks.  After  the  battle,  in  which 
those  who  followed  him  turned  defeat  into  victory,  he 
sought  me  out  and  pledged  me  as  his  deliverer  from 
death.” 

“Then  you  must  needs  be  in  high  favor  at  the  court?” 
Pausanias  answered  enviously. 

“Yes,  and  when  opportunity  comes  I will  use  it  to 
destroy  the  whole  brood,  not  leaving  one.” 

“Through  this  miscarriage  then  we  may  behold  the 
fruition  of  our  hopes,”  Pausanias  answered  pompously. 
“Such  are  the  happenings  of  men.  When  their  fortunes 
are  seemingly  lost,  the  door  flies  open  and  they  regain 
their  rights.  But  tell  me,  if  you  are  not  weary,  how  does 
Alexander  bear  himself,  the  retriever  of  a failing  fight? 
This  coming  on  the  heels  of  other  honors  must  so  puff 
him  with  pride  of  self  that  he  can  scarce  set  foot  on  the 
yielding  earth.” 

“No,  this  new  glory  he  accepts  as  a thing  ordained  and 
but  a part  of  the  path  he  is  to  tread.” 

“ ’Tis  like  him,  for  he  is  not  as  those  about  him,  but 
seems  always  to  live  in  the  future  more  than  in  the  pres- 
ent.” 


36 


Iskander 


“Yes;  and  have  you  never  noticed,  Pausanias,  he  looks 
not  at  you,  but  through  you,  as  if  caught  by  some  object 
beyond.  By  the  Gods!  except  that  his  life  is  in  my  way 
I could  love  him  for  the  serenity  and  courage  with  which 
he  faces  the  fortunes  of  life.  As  it  is,  T hate  him  and 
live  only  to  find  a way  to  kill  him  and  his  usurping  father. 


CHAPTER  III. 


OLYMPIAS,  QUEEN  OF  MACEDONIA. 

While  Amyntas  and  Pausanias  were  thus  complaining 
of  their  wrongs  and  threatening  both  the  King  and  Alex- 
ander, the  prolonged  blast  of  a trumpet  from  without 
the  fortress  broke  in  upon  their  speech. 

“ ’Tis  the  signal  of  the  Queen  to  open  the  outer  gate,” 
Pausanias  exclaimed,  without  leaving  his  seat. 

“Does  she  go  much  abroad,  or  is  it  as  formerly?” 
Amyntas  asked. 

“No;  she  scarce  leaves  the  fortress  from  one  week’s 
end  to  another.  But  the  mood  seizing  her,  she  will  trail 
back  and  forth  for  hours  in  the  windings  of  the  Lydias, 
speaking  to  no  one.  But  here  the  tigress  comes,”  Pau- 
sanias exclaimed,  springing  to  his  feet  as  the  gate  of  the 
fortress  was  upraised,  revealing  the  Queen  advancing 
with  her  retinue  of  women  and  pages. 

Olympias,  Queen  of  Macedonia,  so  great  in  her  sor- 
rows and  so  masterful  in  her  ways,  was  still  young.  But 
her  face,  which  had  once  been  supremely  beautiful,  was 
now  clouded  with  the  disappointments  of  her  life  and  the 
fierce  passions  to  which  she  gave  unrestrained  sway.  It 
was  not,  as  in  her  youth,  the  face  of  a trusting  woman, 
but  that  of  a lioness,  eager,  ambitious  and  craving.  A 
face  that  looked  out  with  fierce  questioning  eyes  from  a 
wilderness  of  yellow  hair  that  no  net  or  hood  could  hold. 
Hers  was  the  face  of  a woman  that  only  trusting  love 
could  have  subdued  and  that,  meeting  deception,  would 
flash  back  with  fierce  scorn  and  implacable  hatred.  Dis- 
appointed in  Philip,  whose  love  scarce  lasted  through 

(37) 


38 


I skand  e r 


the  nuptial  hour,  all  her  happiness  now  rested  in  Alexan- 
der, whom  she  treasured  with  tender  love.  Philip’s  gross 
indulgences  that  only  a complaisant  wife  could  have 
looked  upon  with  calmness,  excited  in  her  such  furious 
rage  and  unbridled  speech  that  the  court  was  constantly  in 
a turmoil  of  excitement  because  of  it.  The  King,  whose 
sins  were  of  daily  occurrence,  heightened  his  offense  by 
openly  questioning  her  fidelity,  and  doing  so  professed  to 
find  excuse  therein  for  still  further  neglecting  her.  Thus 
it  came  about,  at  last,  that  they  had  no  common  interests 
save  in  their  chivalrous  son.  But  now  Alexander,  siding 
with  his  mother  in  all  things,  he  and  those  about  him, 
it  was  thought,  were  in  great  danger  of  losing  the  King’s 
favor.  So  that  the  Queen  had  come  to  believe  that  Alex- 
ander's succession  might  at  any  moment  be  endangered 
by  some  court  intrigue  or  jealous  impulse  of  the  King. 
Such  was  her  unhappy  state,  on  that  August  afternoon 
when  Amyntas,  seeing  her  enter  the  fortress,  ran  and 
threw  himself  on  his  knees  before  her,  exclaiming : 

‘TIail,  gracious  Queen,  mother  of  Alexander,  deign  to 
smile  upon  me  for  the  glorious  news  I bring !” 

‘'Your  countenance,  sweet  Prince,  not  less  than  your 
words  reassure  me,”  she  answered,  giving  him  her  hand 
to  kiss,  pleased  at  his  reference  to  Alexander. 

“Yes,  august  sovereign,  our  army  again  triumphs  and 
all  Greece  lies  prostrate,  nor  thinks  further  of  disputing 
Philip’s  will.” 

“The  triumph  of  our  arms  is  an  oft  told  tale,  Amyntas. 
Nowhere  can  men  be  found  to  withstand  the  charge  of 
our  well  ordered  troops,”  the  Queen  answered  without 
animation. 

“No,  nor  do  they  think  of  it  longer,  gracious  Queen.” 


Olympias,  Queen  of  Macedonia  39 

“Did  many  fall  on  our  side  ? Be  careful  what  you  say, 
Amyntas,  for  the  wives  and  children  of  all  Macedonia 
will  be  stricken  or  gladdened  by  your  words.” 

“We  suffered  little,  oh  Queen,  being  the  aggressors. 
But  on  the  side  of  the  Greeks  half  their  force  fell  or  were 
taken  captive.” 

“The  King,  is  he  well?  And  Alexander,  the  hope  of 
Macedonia?”  she  went  on  eagerly;  “how  did  he  bear 
himself,  Amyntas?” 

“No  words  of  mine  can  paint  his  chivalrous  bearing 
nor  the  brilliancy  of  his  achievements  on  the  field  of  bat- 
tle, oh  Queen.  The  army  with  one  voice  acclaim  him 
victor,  hailing  him  as  King,  so  great  is  its  delight.” 

“Does  Philip  find  offense  therein?”  the  Queen  asked 
with  anxious  voice. 

“No,  far  from  it.  For  after  the  great  battle  he  sent 
for  him  and  embraced  him  on  the  field,  kissing  him  on 
both  his  cheeks,  saying:  ‘You  are  more  fit  to  command 
than  I,  Alexander.’  ” 

“Oh,  glorious,  God-like  son,  to  have  borne  him  is  to 
become  immortal.  ’Twas  foretold  by  the  Gods  when  he 
was  born,  Amyntas,  that  he  would  do  great  deeds.” 

“His  acts,  gracious  Queen,  foretell  his  greatness,  nor 
need  we  the  oracles  to  confirm  it,”  Amyntas  answered, 
stooping  low  to  conceal  the  scowl  he  could  not  hide. 

“Tell  me,  sweet  friend,  if  I do  not  tire  you,  how  he  bore 
himself;  what  did  he  do  in  the  very  heat  of  battle?” 

“He  bore  himself  throughout  like  a great  and  chival- 
rous soldier,  oh  Queen.  Commanding  the  left  wing,  he 
charged  the  Theban  army,  leading  the  way.  Breaking 
their  array,  he  scattered  their  forces  as  the  tempest  whirls 
the  dust  through  Pella’s  crowded  streets,”  Amyntas  an- 


40  Iskander 

swered,  striving  to  simulate  an  enthusiasm  he  did  not 
feel. 

“Could  not  the  Sacred  Band  withstand  the  Prince? 
For  it  has  ever  been  held  invincible  since  at  Leuctra  it 
overcame  the  unconquerable  Spartans,”  the  Queen  ex- 
claimed, laying  hold  of  Amyntas. 

“Not  more  than  the  others,  oh  Queen.  Its  center 
pierced,  our  soldiers  cut  them  down,  sparing  none.” 

“Did  all  perish  ?”  she  cried,  excited  at  the  thought. 

“Yes,  for  not  one  would  yield  or  fly.  And  so  not  one 
was  left  to  mourn  his  fellows  or  his  country’s  overthrow.” 

“Gallant,  God-like  men!  Oh,  glorious  war!  Why 
was  I not  born  a man,  Amyntas,  to  share  in  its  brave 
exploits  ?”  she  cried,  excited  by  what  he  said. 

“Nay,  you  will  live  in  Alexander  and  his  exploits,  oh 
Queen,  for  his  greatness  is  all  your  own,”  Amyntas  ex- 
claimed with  angry  vehemence,  as  if  plucking  a laurel 
from  Philip’s  brow. 

“Yet  he  is  so  gentle  and  loving  withal,  Amyntas.  So 
trustful  and  true  to  his  friends  and  plighted  word,  that 
some  sweet  nymph  might  have  borne  him  rather  than  his 
fierce  mother.  But  go  on,  what  act  did  he  perform  after 
the  Thebans  fled?” 

“Turning  to  the  right  like  a circling  tempest,  he  at- 
tacked the  Athenians  on  their  flank,  before  whom  the 
King  was  slowly  giving  ground.  Unexpected,  his  on- 
slaught disorganized  their  forces  and  so,  after  some  little 
resistance,  they  threw  down  their  arms  and  sought  safety 
in  flight.  Afterwards,  as  I have  said,  the  King  and  Alex- 
ander, meeting  on  the  field  of  battle,  Philip  embraced 
him,  exclaiming  that  Alexander  was  the  greater  general, 
and  the  more  worthy  to  command.” 


Olympias,  Queen  of  Macedonia  41 

“No  praise,  however  great,  can  overtop  his  merits.  But 
where  left  you  the  King  and  Alexander,  good  friend  ?” 

“Philip  is  with  the  army  arranging  the  details  of  peace 
and  the  dominion  of  Greece.  Alexander  meantime  has 
gone  as  envoy  to  Athens,  it  being  the  policy  of  the  King 
to  treat  the  Athenians  with  every  indulgence.” 

“Then  we  may  soon  expect  their  return  ?” 

“The  King  will  be  detained  pending  the  negotiations, 
but  the  Prince  may  be  expected  any  day.” 

“Hasten  the  hour,  that  I may  again  feast  my  tired  eyes 
on  his  God-like  form!”  the  Queen  exclaimed,  turning 
away. 

“That  is  not  all,  oh  Queen,”  Amyntas  cried,  detaining 
her.  “For  the  King  bids  me  tell  you  that  an  embassy 
from  Persia  is  on  its  way  to  Pella,  and  it  is  his  wish  that 
it  be  received  and  entertained  with  all  honor.” 

“I  had  not  heard  before  of  such  a mission,”  the  Queen 
answered,  surprised. 

“Nor  would  you  now  had  we  not  been  victorious.  For 
they  came  to  treat  with  Demosthenes  and  the  other 
Greeks.  But  we  winning,  they  turn  now  to  us  as  the  dom- 
inant power.” 

“So  at  last  the  Great  King  comes  to  Pella  hoping,  by 
diplomacy  and  Persian  gold,  to  put  off  the  invasion  of 
his  empire,”  the  Queen  responded,  meditating  on  what 
the  other  said. 

“So  it  is  thought,  oh  Queen,  and  ’tis  said,  five  stout 
pack  mules  are  not  too  many  to  carry  the  gold  they 
bring,”  Amyntas  answered,  aroused  at  the  thought  of  so 
much  wealth. 

“Then  the  miser  Darius  must  indeed  tremble  for  his 
throne,”  she  exclaimed  scornfully.  “But  tell  me,  good 
Prince,  is  there  no  court  news  of  interest?  Who  among 


42 


Iskander 


llie  sycophants  bids  highest  for  the  King’s  favor?  Who 
among  them  is  now  his  favorite?’^ 

"‘Attains,  above  every  one,  oh  Queen.  lie  only  has 
the  King’s  ear;  and  because  of  it,  all  now  pay  him  court,” 
Amyntas  answered,  eying  the  Queen. 

“What!  Attains?  That  monster  of  treachery  and  in- 
satiable greed!” 

“Yes,  oh  Queen.  And  ’tis  said  he  seeks  to  build  his 
fortune  higher  by  the  King’s  marriage  with  his  too  will- 
ing niece,  Cleopatra.  But  in  this  I repeat  only  common 
talk,”  Amyntas  answered,  maliciously. 

“By  the  Gods,  if  there  be  such  rumor  ’tis  false,”  Pau- 
sanias  here  interposed,  pale  and  trembling.  “Cleopatra, 
my  love!  She  cannot  be  such  a wanton.  Nay,  I would 
stake  my  life  on  her  truth  and  virtue,”  he  went  on  as  if 
distracted.  But  at  last  observing  the  Queen’s  face  to 
darken,  he  cried : “Pardon,  oh  Queen,  if  in  my  heat 
I plead  too  strongly  the  cause  of  the  weak  and  defense- 
less.” 

“Nay,  you  waste  your  breath,  Pausanias,”  the  Queen 
answered,  motioning  Amyntas  back.  “The  frail  Cleo- 
patra, failing  to  ensnare  Alexander,  now  aims  to  enmesh 
the  King  with  her  lustful  wiles.” 

“She  stoop  to  become  the  King’s  mistress!  For  it  is 
naught  else.  No!  I would  not  believe  so  base  a thing 
were  she  herself  to  proclaim  it,”  Pausanias  screamed  in 
a frenzy  of  rage,  forgetting  the  deference  he  owed  the 
Queen. 

“Nay!  She  aims  higher  than  the  office  of  mistress, 
good  frietid.  Nothing  less  than  supplanting  your  Queen 
will  still  the  cravings  of  her  mad  ambition.  Others  have 
not  Ijeen  so  aspiring.  She  would  pluck  me  bodily  from 


Olympias,  Queen  of  Macedonia  43 

the  throne/'  the  Queen  answered  insinuatingly,  stirring 
the  other's  anger. 

“If  what  you  aver  be  true,  oh  Queen,  I will  strangle 
her  ere  she  commit  so  great  a sin.  For  she  is  mine,  mine, 
and  all  the  Gods  of  high  Olympus  shall  not  snatch  her 
from  me!" 

“Then  you  love  the  fickle  creature!"  the  Queen  an- 
swered, as  if  now  hearing  it  for  the  first  time. 

“She  is  my  blood,  my  heart,  my  life.  We  have  been 
pledged  to  each  other  since  our  very  childhood.  Attains 
knows  this  well,  and  if  the  King  be  ignorant  of  it  I will 
go  to  him.  For  not  even  Philip  shall  thus  trespass  upon 
my  honor  and  happiness." 

“Restrain  your  passion,  Pausanias.  If  but  a suspicion 
of  vrhat  you  say  and  think  were  to  reach  the  King  your 
head  would  pay  the  forfeit,"  the  Queen  replied,  but  not 
as  if  displeased  at  the  other's  speech. 

“I  care  not  for  Philip,  in  such  thing,  more  than  a com- 
mon man.  Degraded  from  my  kingly  rank,  I will  not 
brook  further  wrong  without  my  vengeance  being 
quenched  in  his  lustful  blood,"  Pausanias  cried,  white 
with  rage. 

“Nay,  you  will  think  better  of  it  after  a night's  rest, 
and  at  the  wedding  be  first  to  kiss  the  Queen's  hand  and 
wish  her  joy.  Love  in  Macedonia,  Pausanias,  dies  in 
the  hearts  of  men,  however  brave,  when  the  King  smiles 
upon  their  mistresses." 

“My  love  may  die,  oh  Queen,  but  a greater  passion 
will  take  its  place;  a hate  that  will  grow  stronger  till 
drowned  in  the  King's  blood.  If  such  speech  be  danger- 
ous I do  not  ask  anyone  to  hide  it,"  he  cried,  overcome  by 
his  passion. 

“Nay,  you  may  be  as  frank  as  you  will  with  me,  your 


44 


Iskander 


Queen.  And  glad  I am  that  there  is  one  Macedonian 
whose  love  of  honor  is  greater  than  his  craving  for  place 
or  preferment/'  she  concluded,  smiling  upon  him. 

‘‘Thanks,  gracious  Queen.  You  will  aid  me  in  pre- 
venting the  foul  wrong  the  King  meditates?"  Pausanias 
cried  with  supplicating  voice. 

“No,  good  Pausanias,  I cannot  promise  aught  against 
the  King.  But  your  just  wrath  enlists  my  tender  inter- 
est. There!  Say  not  another  word.  When  you  have 
bathed  and  supped  come  to  me.  Perhaps  together  we 
may  contrive  some  way.  Meanwhile  keep  your  own  coun- 
sel, nor  breathe  aloud  speech  so  fraught  with  peril  to 
your  life,"  saying  which  she  gave  him  her  hand  as  if 
in  friendship  and  protection.  “Be  not  too  much  cast 
down,  but  go  about  your  business  as  if  nothing  troubled 
you.  Come  hither.  Prince,"  she  went  on,  turning  to 
Amyntas,  “I  leave  you  in  Pausanias'  charge.  He  will 
see  that  you  lack  no  attention  or  honor  in  our  power  to 
bestow.  Afterwards,  Pausanias,  proclaim  the  names  of 
the  stricken  throughout  the  city,  that  the  agony  of  those 
who  wait  may  not  be  needlessly  prolonged,"  and  inclining 
her  head,  the  Queen  entered  the  citadel,  followed  by  her 
attendants. 

“So  the  enchantress  Cleopatra  shot  her  bolt  at  you,  ere 
she  let  it  fly  at  Alexander,  and  now  more  successfully 
against  the 'King,"  Amyntas  cried  when  they  were  alone. 
“I  thought  you  were  wiser  than  to  be  caught  by  the  shal- 
low wanton." 

“The  shallow  wanton  I By  the  Gods  you  shall  answer 
with  your  life  for  so  foul  a word,"  Pausanias  cried,  white 
with  rage,  drawing  his  sword. 

“Nay,  forgive  me.  T did  not  dream  you  were  so  ten- 
der," Amyntas  res])onded,  backing  away. 


Olympias,  Queen  of  Macedonia  45 

“1  care  not  what  you  dreamed.  Draw,  or  I will 
kill  you.  Quick!  The  craze  is  on  me,”  Pausanias  ex- 
claimed, convulsed  with  rage,  extending  his  weapon. 
Drawing  his  sword,  Amyntas  cried  out  as  he  parried  the 
other’s  furious  thrust : “Calm  yourself,  Pausanias.  Put 
by  your  weapon,  for  I meant  not  to  offend  you.” 

“I  care  not  what  you  meant,”  Pausanias  cried,  striving 
to  run  him  through. 

“Are  you  mad,  you  fool?”  Amyntas  exclaimed,  an- 
gered at  the  other’s  pertinacity. 

“Yes,  mad,  mad,  mad!”  Pausanias  answered,  rushing 
on  Amyntas  with  extended  sword,  his  eyes  half  closed 
with  the  frenzy  that  possessed  him. 

Seeing  this  Amyntas,  raising  his  weapon,  struck  Pau- 
sanias’ sword  from  his  trembling  hand,  exclaiming : 

“Quiet  your  mad  rage,  Pausanias.  Go  I Pick  up  your 
sword,  for  I would  not  harm  you  if  I could.” 

“I  will  accept  naught  from  you.  I would  have  killed 
you,  and  you  can  do  no  less  for  me,”  Pausanias  cried, 
throwing  wide  his  arms  and  rushing  upon  the  point  of 
Amyntas’  sword.  But  the  latter,  letting  it  fall,  clasped 
Pausanias  in  his  arms,  crying  out : 

“Why  die  like  a coward,  my  friend,  and  let  the  King 
who  wrongs  you  go  free?” 

“You  ai'e  right,  Amyntas,”  Pausanias  sobbed  at  length, 
his  head  on  the  other’s  shoulder.  “It  is  he  I should  slay, 
not  you.  For  it  is  his  importunities  that  have  overcome 
her  virtue.  I will  live,  if  only  to  avenge  myself  and  those 
who,  like  me,  have  suffered  from  his  brutish  passions. 
There!  Say  not  a word,  lest  I go  mad,”  and  picking  up 
his  sword  he  hurried  from  the  fortress. 

“Go,  weak  man!  I could  not  ask  fitter  instrument,” 


46 


I skander 


Amyntas  exclaimed,  sheathing  his  sword  and  following 
Pausanias. 

Thus,  through  the  pride  and  jealousy  of  the  outraged 
Queen  and  the  despair  of  those  Philip  had  wronged,  was 
the  first  step  taken  that  was  destined  to  lead  to  such  vast 
consequences  to  the  world  and  the  war-like  King  of  Mace- 
donia. 

Seeking  her  apartments  much  disturbed,  the  distraught 
Queen  found  her  favorite,  a gentle  maid,  lying  prostrate 
on  the  floor  convulsed  with  grief. 

“Why  do  you  weep,  sweet  child?”  she  asked,  lifting 
her  up  with  tender  compassion.  “Hath  word  reached 
you  of  some  friend,  perhaps  a lover,  fallen  in  battle?  I 
thought  the  hearts  of  our  women  steeled  against  such 
tidings;  it  is  a tale  so  often  told.” 

“I  weep  not  for  one  lost  in  battle,  oh  Queen.  For  that 
is  the  fate  of  men.  But  for  Orestes,  eruelly  murdered,” 
the  girl  sorrowfully  answered. 

“Murdered!  Orestes,  your  brother?  By  whom  and 
when?”  the  Queen  cried,  surprised  and  grieved. 

“By  Amyntas  as  he  approaehed  the  eity  scarce  an  hour 
since,”  the  maid  answered,  overcome  by  grief. 

“By  Amyntas  1 What  grudge  has  he  against  the  gentle 
youth?  Surely  you  must  be  mistaken,”  the  Queen  ex- 
claimed, striving  to  soothe  her. 

“No,  gracious  Queen,  I have  it  from  one  who  wit- 
nessed the  horrid  deed.  Nor  was  he  stricken  down  in  fair 
fight,  but  treacherously,  in  the  open  road  and  before  all 
the  troop,”  she  answered,  anger  overcoming  her  grief. 

“Amyntas  was  ever  eold  and  cruel,  but  I cannot  think 
him  capable  of  so  foul  a deed,”  the  Queen  answered,  and 
calling  a page  she  bade  him  seek  out  the  officer  of  Amyn- 
tas’ escort  and  bring  him  to  her  without  delay.  “There 


Olympias,  Queen  of  Macedonia  47 

are  other  things  beside  this  that  I would  learn  from  lips 
less  pliant  than  those  of  the  fawning  Prince,”  she  went 
on  as  her  attendants  removed  her  cloak  and  hat.  “Why 
said  he  naught  of  the  deed  to  me?  Oh,  he  presumes  too 
much  on  his  high  birth,  and  Philip’s  weak  compassion. 
Were  I King  he  should  not  live  an  hour  to  threaten  the 
throne  and  Alexander’s  peaceful  succession!” 

While  thus  meditating  her  heart  filled  with  apprehen- 
sion and  hate  her  messenger  returned  accompanied  by 
Clitus,  whom  he  had  found  dismounting  at  the  outer  gate 
of  the  fortress. 

“Welcome  back  to  Pella,  good  Clitus,  and  with  no  new 
wounds,  I hope,  to  attest  your  devotion  to  the  King  and 
his  august  son,  the  Prince,”  she  cried,  giving  her  hand 
in  love  to  the  hardy  soldier. 

“Not  so  much  as  a scratch,  please  you  gracious  Queen,” 
Clitus  answered,  dropping  on  one  knee  and  raising  her 
hand  to  his  lips. 

“You  are  tired  and  worn  from  the  long  march,  and  I 
am  wrong  to  claim  your  presence  ere  you  have  refreshed 
yourself.” 

“The  favor  of  our  Queen  is  both  meat  and  sleep  to 
those  who  serve  her,”  Clitus  answered  gallantly,  rising  to 
his  feet. 

“Ah,  Clitus,  I fear  our  soft  spoken  courtiers  are  cor- 
rupting your  honest  speech.  But  come!  Refresh  yourself 
with  wine  and  seat  yourself  beside  me,  for  your  devotion 
deserves  no  less  favor,”  she  exclaimed,  motioning  her' 
attendants  to  retire  as  Clitus  took  the  proffered  place. 
“Come  now,  let  us  talk,  and  not  as  Queen  and  subject, 
but  as  one  good  friend  to  another.  But  first  drink  this 
refreshing  wine.  It  is  the  elixir  of  your  country,  and  in 
it  we  will  pledge  the  King  and  after  him  the  Prince.” 


48 


Iskander 


“To  both,  together  and  apart,  now  and  always !’’  Clitus 
exclaimed,  rising  and  draining  the  deep  goblet  without 
taking  it  from  his  lips. 

“Come!  Another  cup,  Clitus.  That  did  but  wash  the 
dust  from  your  hot  throat,  for  you  have  traveled  far  and 
hard,  as  your  stained  armor  shows.  Nay,  you  shall  not 
have  less  than  the  King’s  portion,’’  she  went  on,  filling 
his  goblet  afresh,  “for  Philip,  when  wearied,  will  not 
stay  with  less  than  a full  skin  of  wine;  nor  always  that.” 

“The  great  bull’s  horn,  from  which  we  drank  when 
I was  young,  has  lost  much  in  size  these  years,  oh  Queen,” 
Clitus  exclaimed,  emptying  the  brimming  cup  as  he  had 
done  the  other. 

Filling  the  goblet  anew  she  cried,  resting  her  hand 
on  Clitus’  arm : 

“Now  that  you  are  refreshed,  tell  me,  good  friend, 
what  mean  these  stories  flying  about  the  court  of  Orestes’ 
quick  and  cruel  death  at  Amyntas’  hand?” 

“What  would  you  have  me  say,  oh  Queen?” 

“I  would  have  you  answer  truly,  as  ’tis  in  your  heart 
to  do.” 

“I  dare  not,  oh  Queen,”  Clitus  answered,  fidgeting  in 
his  seat. 

“Dare  not!  When  I,  your  Queen,  bid  you  speak?” 

“He  is  so  high  in  favor,  gracious  Queen,  and  the  King 
punishes  all  who  say  aught  against  him.” 

“But  I,  the  Queen,  Alexander’s  mother,  Philip’s  wife, 
bid  you  speak.” 

“Let  Amyntas  be  interrogated,  oh  Queen.  It  is  not  fit 
that  I should  meddle  in  the  matter.” 

“Speak!  I command  you,”  the  Queen  answered  in  an 
imperious  voice.  “If  aught  follow  I will  bear  the  blame.” 


Olympias,  Queen  of  Macedonia  49 

“ ’Tis  true  then,  oh  gracious  Queen,”  Clitus,  who  only 
waited  to  be  thus  urged,  answered.  “Orestes  was  stricken 
as  you  say  and  by  Amyntas’  hand.” 

“What  excuse  did  he  give,  if  any,  for  the  foul  deed?” 

“That  Orestes  was  a traitor,  oh  Queen,  and  had  spoken 
foully  of  both  the  King  and  Prince.” 

“That  cannot  be,  for  the  Prince  writes  me  concerning 
the  youth  and  in  the  most  friendly  spirit,”  the  Queen 
answered  in  surprise.  “Did  not  Orestes  say  aught  before 
he  died  ? Speak ! You  shall  conceal  no  part  of  the  horrid 
deed!” 

“Reviving  after  the  cruel  stroke,  the  youth  excused 
Amyntas,  saying  he  did  it  in  the  heat  of  passion.  But 
in  the  same  breath  spoke  of  the  King  and  Prince  with 
tender  love,  bidding  me  watch  over  them  as  if  some  great 
danger  threatened.  Oh,  he  was  basely  stricken  and  with- 
out cause,  gracious  Queen,”  Clitus  cried,  his  anger  rising 
at  remembrance  of  the  deed.  “Or,  if  cause  there  was,  it 
concerned  Amyntas  and  not  Orestes.” 

“I  can  well  believe  it;  and  was  he  struck  down  with- 
out warning?” 

“Yes,  for  lightning  could  not  have  been  more  sudden 
or  startling  as  we  looked  on,  thinking  no  harm.” 

“The  stroke  was  not  to  punish,  Clitus,  but  more  likely 
to  hide  the  treason  of  him  who  gave  it,”  the  Queen  ex- 
claimed. 

“It  appeared  as  if  given  in  a passion  to  satiate  the  rage 
that  filled  Amyntas’  heart.  This  I gathered,  too,  from 
Orestes’  excuse  of  the  act.” 

“And  he  bade  you  when  dying  to  look  to  the  King’s 
and  Alexander’s  safety?”  the  Queen  continued,  reflecting 
on  what  the  other  had  said. 

“Yes,  and  with  such  beseeching  eyes  and  tremor  of 


50 


Iskander 


voice  that  I must  believe  he  thought  some  great  danger 
threatened  them.” 

“I  would  to  the  Gods  it  were  true  in  Philip’s  case, 
Clitus,  and  that  the  blow  might  not  be  long  delayed.  But 
■'tis  a useless  waste  of  breath,  for  he  hath  a charmed  life, 
otherwise  he  had  long  since  been  killed  by  those  he  has 
betrayed,”  she  answered  angrily.  “ ’Tis  for  Alexander 
I fear,  Clitus.  For  like  Philip,  he  is  indifferent  to  dan- 
ger, shrugging  his  shoulders  with  disdainful  pride  if  one 
but  mention  such  a thing.” 

“That  is  true.  Both  the  King  and  Prince  contemplate 
danger  as  the  eagle  looks  upon  tlie  black  clouds  that 
gather  far  beneath  him.  But  ’tis  a manly  disdain,  and 
such  as  becomes  soldiers  and  kings,”  Clitus  exclaimed 
with  pride. 

“Thus  every  King  of  Macedonia  has  scorned  the  dan- 
gers that  surrounded  him,  and  so  not  one  has  died  this 
hundred  years  without  suspicion  of  grievous  wrong.” 

“Nor  would  precaution  have  availed  them.  For  ’tis 
the  fate  of  those  whose  heads  overtop  the  others.  The 
lightning  strikes  not  the  worm  that  crawls  on  the 
ground,”  Clitus  answered  sententiously. 

“You  know  not  how  I fear  for  Alexander’s  life,”  she 
answered  anxiously.  “And  now,  more  than  before,  I 
would  that  you  were  near  him,  Clitus,  with  a stout  troop 
of  horse.” 

“I  would  I were,  sweet  Queen,  for  here  I am  entombed 
like  a rat,  not  having  even  a bone  to  gnaw.” 

“Have  you  no  orders  from  the  King?  Nothing  that 
would  prevent  your  rejoining  the  Prince  if  I gave  the 
order?”  the  Queen  exclaimed,  her  eyes  lighting  up. 

“None,  oh  Queen,  and  if  you  but  say  the  word  I will 
be  abroad  ere  daylight.” 


Olympias,  Queen  of  Macedonia  51 

“Could  you  find  him,  if  he  had  set  out  on  his  return 
to  Pella,  do  you  think?” 

“With  my  eyes  shut,  oh  Queen,  for  the  road  he  must 
take  a blind  man  might  follow.” 

“And  could  you  start  tonight,  or  were  you  merely 
boasting?”  the  Queen  went  on,  her  voice  plainly  beseech- 
ing him  to  confirm  his  speech. 

“Yes,  and  ere  the  moon  has  risen,  oh  Queen.  For  I 
would  not  wish  the  direction  of  our  march  known  lest  a 
trap  be  set  and  we  fall  into  it  unawares,  as  Orestes  did.” 

“Well,  then,  tonight  let  it  be,”  the  Queen  cried,  laying 
her  hand  on  his.  “But  take  only  approved  men,  Clitus — 
Eumenes,  Ptolemy,  Hephestion,  Seleucus,  Antigonus  and 
the  others.  No  one  not  known  to  be  Alexander’s  firm 
friend.  But  hasten,  sparing  neither  man  nor  beast.  When 
you  have  found  the  sweet  Prince,  let  your  excuse  be  for 
coming,  that  I wished  to  send  him  greeting  and  love.  Fie 
need  know  nothing  of  your  errand,  lest  he  refuse  the 
proffer  and  send  you  to  join  the  King.” 

“Nay,  he  would  not  do  that  for  friendship’s  sake,  for 
to  all  you  have  named  he  has  shown  kindness  and  prefer- 
ence.” 

“I  know,  and  I could  not  send  him  a more  acceptable 
present  than  these  companions  whom  he  loves,”  she  cried, 
her  face  lighting  up  at  the  thought  of  thus  assuring  the 
Prince’s  safety. 

“I  will  not  fail  in  reporting  your  kind  speech  to  those 
you  have  named,  nor  lose  time  in  setting  out,”  Clitus 
answered  rising  to  take  his  leave.  But  the  Queen  stay- 
ing him  with  her  hand,  exclaimed : 

“Conceal  naught  from  him  concerning  Orestes’  fate, 
nor  the  cause  of  it.  Tell  him  his  mother,  who  loves  him, 
bids  him  beware  of  Amyntas  and  his  friends.  Oh,  the 


52 


I skander 


very  air  is  charged  with  murder,  Clitus,  and  the  coming 
of  the  Persian  envoys,  with  their  bags  of  gold  bodes  no 
good  to  the  King  and  Prince,’'  the  Queen  exclaimed  bow- 
ing her  head,  overcome  by  fear.  ‘‘You  see  how  I am 
broken,  Clitus.  Tomorrow  I shall  have  regained  my 
courage;  but  tonight  I tremble  for  my  son,  so  fair  and 
strong,  and  so  tender  of  his  afflicted  mother.  For  he  does 
love  me,  who  suckled  him  at  this  breast  now  so  full  of 
sorrow;  and  as  he  grew  in  years  nursed  him  when  sick, 
encouraged  him,  loved  him  and  trusted  him.  My  happi- 
ness wrecked,  all  my  life  centered  in  him.  But  it  was  not 
always  so,  Clitus.  I was  happy  when  I was  young  and 
Philip  obscure  and  poor.  Then  we  were  lovers,  lovers, 
Clitus ! But  with  growing  power,  men  flattered  him  and 
encouraged  him  to  sin  and  women  sought  him  as  the 
slimy  leech  seeks  the  breast  that  is  full  of  healthful  blood. 
Thus  his  love  died  and  I,  who  was  once  trustful  and  lov- 
ing, became,  as  the  concubines  and  wives  swarmed  about 
me,  like  a wild  beast.  They  call  me  ‘The  Tigress,’  and 
truly  enough.  I should  have  had  a colder  heart.  You 
knew  me  as  I was,  Clitus.  The  blood  of  my  youth,  its 
strength  and  aspirations  animate  my  son.  He  is  not  like 
Philip.  Ye  Gods,  spare  him  to  me!  My  every  feature  is 
reproduced  in  him  and  if  he  becomes  great,  Clitus,  then 
he  will  owe  it  all  to  me.  The  mother  is  ever  thus  repro- 
duced. The  father  is  naught.  Look  on  Alexander,  Clitus, 
and  on  Philip’s  other  son,  the  imbecile!  All  Philip’s 
strength  comes  from  his  mother.  His  father,  Amyntas 
fled  his  kingdom,  offering  to  barter  a part,  that  he  might 
regain  what  was  left.  Eurydice,  Philip’s  mother,  was  of 
different  mold,  strong  and  resolute,  not  hesitating  in  after 
days  to  hurl  her  son,  Perdiccas  from  the  throne  when  he 
crossed  her  masterful  purpose.  It  is  from  this  mighty 


Olympias,  Queen  of  Macedonia  53 

Queen  that  Philip  owes  his  genius  and  cunning,  for  you 
see,  Clitus,  I do  not  deny  Philip  greatness  though  I hate 
him,”  she  exclaimed  sadly. 

“If  men  derive  strength  from  their  mother,  what  may 
we  not  hope  of  Alexander,  oh  Queen,  where  father  and 
mother  are  both  great,”  Clitus  interposed  contempla- 
tively. 

“Philip,  not  less  than  I,  has  ever  sought  to  build  in 
Alexander  everything  that  is  wise  and  great.  Till  now 
he  has  had  naught  to  fear,  but  when  at  Cheronea  he  broke 
the  Theban  ranks,  outdoing  his  father,  the  coming  ruler, 
the  King  of  men,  stood  revealed  to  all  the  world.  Now, 
through  fear  and  hatred,  those  who  have  been  pacified 
will  seek  his  life.  And  among  them  most  of  all  Amyntas. 
Philip,  t00‘,  will  become  estranged  through  his  intrigue 
with  Cleopatra.  Then  the  pampered  Princes  who  haunt 
the  corridors  of  the  court  like  famished  wolves  will  seek 
to  strike  him  down.  And  Alexander,  fearing  naught, 
will  tread  the  dangerous  path  with  open  visor  and  uncov- 
ered breast.  Lanike,  your  sister,  loved  him,  Clitus.  She 
was  his  nurse,  trusted  as  myself.  And  you,  Clitus!  he 
looked  upon  as  a second  Achilles.  You  are  bound  to  him 
by  every  tie,  and  he  to  you.  Hasten  to  him  then,  and 
shield  him  with  your  strength  and  cunning.  Not  from 
open  enemies.  For  these  I care  not.  But  from  the  assas- 
sins who  hide  their  weapons  beneath  the  cloak  of  friend- 
ship.” 

And  clasping  both  her  arms  about  Clitus’  neck  as  if  to 
bind  him  to  her  son  forever,  she  sorrowfully  dismissed 
him. 


CHAPTER  IV. 


ALEXANDER  AND  ROXANA. 

Beneath  the  spreading  oaks  that  clothed  the  foothills 
of  the  Othrys  mountains,  a detachment  of  mounted 
troops,  followed  by  pack-animals  and  slaves,  was  leisurely 
making  its  way  toward  the  Thessalian  plain,  glimpses 
of  which  might  be  seen  through  the  opening  trees.  The 
leader,  bestriding  his  horse  with  easy  grace,  rode  amidst 
a group  of  officers  and  pages  in  brilliant  uniforms,  seem- 
ingly unconscious  of  their  presence.  And  it  was  appar- 
ent, from  their  unconstrained  manner  and  speech,  that  all 
distinctions  of  rank  were,  for  the  moment,  forgotten  in 
the  fullness  of  life  and  the  romantic  nature  of  the  coun- 
try through  which  they  were  passing. 

‘‘  'Tis  said,”  one  of  them  at  last  exclaimed,  in  answer 
to  the  speech  of  a companion,  ‘‘that  the  Princess  Roxana 
goes  to  Pella  with  her  father,  Oxyartes,  chief  of  the  Per- 
sian embassy.  Did  you  hear  aught  of  her  while  in 
Athens?” 

“Yes,  and  this  among  other  things;  that  her  beauty  is 
so  resplendent  and  her  manner  so  captivating  that  the 
most  insensible  yield  their  hearts  to  her  without  a strug- 
gle,” Hephestion,  the  young  cavalry  officer  addressed,  an- 
swered. 

“That  is  a fiction  not  worth  repeating,  for  every  one 
knows  that  no  Persian  woman,  however  obscure,  un- 
covers her  face  before  the  world,”  Seleucus,  one  of  his 
companions,  answered  amid  a general  laugh. 


Alexander  and  Roxana 


55 


“But  the  Princess  is  only  half  a Persian,  for  she  comes 
from  the  far  distant  province  of  Bactria,  where  the  cus- 
toms of  the  Persian  court  have  little  force.  Or,  if  they 
do,  the  dainty  being,  like  our  Grecian  dames,  will  by  no 
means  suffer  the  splendor  of  her  beauty  to  be  clouded  by 
a veil.’’ 

“Will  she  accompany  the  embassy  tO'  Pella,  think 
you?”  Ptolemy,  a young  officer  of  distinguished  bearing, 
asked. 

“Yes,  for  she  and  her  father  are  said  to  be  insepara- 
ble. Indeed,  it  is  whispered  among  the  wise  in  Athens 
that  much  of  his  diplomatic  skill  is  due  to  her  tact  and 
happy  suggestions.” 

“Who  among  us  has  seen  the  fair  enchantress?”  Seleu- 
cus,  an  officer  of  cavalry,  asked,  looking  around.  “I 
heard  that  the  embassy  kept  under  cover  on  their  ships 
while  waiting  to  see  whether  Philip  or  Demosthenes 
would  come  off  victor.” 

“No  Macedonian  has  ever  beheld  her,”  Hephestion  re- 
plied. “But  her  great  beauty  and  queenly  bearing  are 
the  only  things  talked  of  among  the  scented  dandies  of 
Athens.” 

“What  know  they  of  her  beauty  except  from  hearsay, 
if  she  were  hid  on  board  the  Persian  ships?”  Eumenes, 
a veteran  officer,  cried  in  derision. 

“The  embassy  passed  a week  in  Athens  on  its  arrival ; 
but  straightway  they  heard  of  the  presence  of  the  King’s 
threatening  army  in  Phocis,  then,  Persian-like,  the)^  hid 
themselves  on  board  their  ships ; and  this  to  the  utter  un- 
doing of  the  Athenian  dandies,  for  they  aver  that  one 
never  tires  of  gazing  on  the  Princess’  eyebrows ; and  that 
beneath  the  resplendent  arches,  every  eye-lash  has  such 


56 


Iskand  er 


witching  charm  that  all  speech  is  lost  in  contemplating  its 
downward  sweep/’  Hephestion  exclaimed. 

‘What  of  her  eyes,  Hephestion?”  Nearchus,  one  of 
the  group,  cried. 

“They  have  such  depth  and  enchantment  of  life  that 
only  the  deep  blue  of  the  unfathomable  sea  can  be  com- 
pared to  them  in  beauty  and  liquid  splendor.” 

“And  her  mouth,  romancer?”  Antigonus,  an  elderly 
officer^  exclaimed. 

“Its  sweetness  and  dainty  upward  curve,  sure  signs  of 
amiability  and  goodness  of  heart,  surpasses  all  others  in 
loveliness,  as  do  her  eyes.” 

“By  the  Gods,  Hephestion,  the  idlers  of  Athens  are  not 
lacking  in  imagination  if  they  have  no  courage  or  enter- 
prise in  arms,”  Ptolemy  cried,  captivated  by  the  picture. 

“Oh,  I have  not  recounted  the  half,”  Hephestion  went 
on.  “For  still  more  wonderful  stories  are  told  of  her 
by  the  Persian  sailors.  It  was  told  me  by  ^schines,  that 
with  bow  and  arrow  she  can  split  a pomegranate  at  fifty 
paces,  and  with  the  javelin  is  as  skillful  as  a Cretan  sol- 
dier. He  said,  too,  that  being  with  her  father  in  a skir- 
mish with  the  Scythian  nomads,  and  Oxyartes  being 
wounded,  she  supported  him  on  his  horse,  and  so  both 
escaped  from  the  field ; until,  gaining  a safe  distance,  she 
bound  up  his  wounds  and  continued  the  flight.” 

“An  Amazon!”  Seleucus  ejaculated. 

“No;  a woman  of  such  gentle  texture  that  she  cries 
out  if  you  but  cut  your  finger.  But  in  battle  a lioness,  the 
Persians  aver,  if  her  father  be  threatened.” 

“Does  the  embassy  take  ship  to  Pella,  or  go  by  land?” 
Antigonus  asked.  “For  by  the  Gods,  had  I such  a daugh- 


Alexander  and  Roxana 


57 


ter  as  this  Roxana,  I would  not  travel  abroad  in  Greece 
without  an  army  to  guard  her;  not  1.” 

“They  go  by  land,  the  better  to  spy  out  the  country,  ’tis 
thought,”  Eumenes  answered.  “And  this  at  the  sugges- 
tion of  Mithrines,  a renegade  Greek  in  the  Persian  service, 
and  now  Governor  of  Sardis.” 

“I  heard  him  spoken  of  as  a man  much  esteemed  by  the 
great  King  for  his  cunning  and  unscrupulous  services,” 
Antigonus  interposed. 

“The  Persian  Kings  have  ever  had  use  for  such  agents 
at  Athens  and  among  the  Asiatic  Greeks  ; but  now,  Philip 
being  completely  victorious,  the  jackals  will  hereafter 
seek  their  prey  at  Pella,”  Seleucus  exclaimed  with  scorn- 
ful wrath. 

“Nor  will  they  come  empty-handed,  but  with  the  vast 
treasures  the  Athenian  wasp,  Demosthenes,  would  have 
handled  had  Philip  lost  at  Cheronea;  but  such  thing  not 
happening,  straightway  the  gold  of  the  great  King  was 
locked  up  to  be  transferred  to  Pella,”  Antigonus  an- 
swered. 

“It  would  appear  then  that  the  embassy  has  two  treas- 
ures, Roxana  and  Darius’  bags  of  shining  gold,”  Near- 
chus  exclaimed. 

“If  the  Princess  be  all  they  say,  Oxyartes,  her  father, 
must  be  the  most  favored  of  mortals,”  Cassander,  a young 
officer,  hitherto  silent,  exclaimed  with  warmth. 

“Yes.  Nor  is  that  all;  for  he  is  little  less  than  a King 
in  his  own  country,  and  of  such  fabulous  wealth  that  even 
Darius  envies  him  his  riches,”  Antigonus  answered. 

“Ye  Gods,  but  Persia’s  conquest  will  afford  our  Mace- 
donian soldiers  rich  plunder  if  all  that  is  told,  or  the  half, 
be  true.  May  we  all  be  there  when  the  goose  is  plucked,” 


58 


Iskander 


Seleucus  cried,  referring  to  the  projected  invasion  of  that 
mighty  empire. 

’Tis  time.  For  till  now  our  campaigns  have  yielded 
little  but  scars,  and  slaves  hardly  worth  the  holding,  if  I 
except  the  fat  cities  of  Chalcidice,'’  Ptolemy  exclaimed, 
scanning  his  battered  armor. 

“ ’Twill  be  different  in  Babylon  and  Susa  when  our 
swords  are  loosened  in  their  crowded  streets,”  Seleucus 
answered  with  animation. 

’Tis  said  the  gold  of  Croesus,  taken  by  great  Cyrus 
when  Sardis  fell  two  hundred  years  ago,  is  still  uncounted 
in  Susa’s  treasury.” 

‘‘Of  wine,  too,  of  fabulous  age  and  richness,  there  is 
claimed  to  be  no  end,”  Ptolemy  interposed,  wetting  his 
lips. 

“I  would  I had  a sip  of  it  to  slake  my  thirst,  for  these 
mountains  and  plains  are  as  dry  as  Lysimachus’  stories,” 
Cassander  exclaimed. 

“ ’Twill  be  rich  picking,  this  Persia,  and  salve  many 
an  ugly  wound,”  Ptolemy  answered  with  a laugh. 

“Peace,  good  friends!”  Alexander,  who  commanded 
the  detachment  of  troops,  here  interposed  in  a voice  sin- 
gularly low  and  sweet.  “If  the  King’s  wars  have  yielded 
little  to  enrich  you,  they  have  made  Macedonia  the  head 
of  all  Greece,  and  so  of  the  world.  Is  that  not  enough 
for  a beginning?  The  other  he  will  compass,  and  that 
before  some  of  you  have  grown  a beard.” 

“If  he  conquer  Persia,  what  will  there  be  left  for  you 
when  you  succeed  him  on  the  throne?”  Hephestion  ex- 
claimed, jealous  of  his  friend’s  fame. 

“ ’Tis  a big  world,  Hephestion,  and  we  know  little  of 


Alexander  and  Roxana 


59 


its  bounds,  save  what  we  hear  from  the  gossip,  Herodotus, 
and  other  travelers,”  Alexander  answered  mildly. 

“But  the  King  will  have  explored  and  conquered  its  ut- 
most limits  ere  he  die,  and  thus  all  the  glory  will  be 
his,”  rejoined  Hephestion,  no  way  appeased. 

“If  so,  it  is  his  of  right,  good  friend,”  Alexander  an- 
swered. “For  was  it  not  he  who  fashioned  our  invincible 
army  and  plucked  our  country  from  the  depths  of  pov- 
erty, to  make  it  the  greatest  among  nations?  If  he 
achieves  the  conquest  of  Persia  it  is  not  too  great  a re- 
ward for  services  so  glorious,”  he  v/ent  on,  to  the  surprise 
of  those  who  listened,  for  the  boundless  ambition  of  the 
young  Prince  was  a thing  well  known. 

Proceeding  some  distance  without  further  speech,  Alex- 
ander at  last  reined  in  his  horse,  crying  to  those  about 
him : 

“Come,  sweet  friends,  we  are  but  a step  from  the  great 
plain.  Let  the  soldiers  dismount  and  don  their  armor. 
’Tis  a compliment  due  to  our  ally,  the  Tagus  of  Thessaly, 
and  a thing  we  owe  to  the  heroic  dead  who  once  trav- 
ersed this  war-worn  plain.” 

“ 'Twill  serve  the  better  to  spread  the  news  of  our  ap- 
proach, and  so  the  Tagus  may  show  us  some  hospitality 
when  we  reach  Larissa,”  Ptolemy  exclaimed,  smacking 
his  lips  as  if  already  enjoying  the  feast. 

“Nay,  that  I would  avoid,  and  all  other  like  demon- 
strations on  our  way,”  the  Prince  exclaimed.  “And  the 
better  to  insure  this  let  it  not  be  said  that  I accompany 
the  detachment,  but  rather  that  some  un-named  Prince 
of  Macedonia  is  in  command.  Look  to  this,  Antigonus,” 
Alexander  went  on,  as  he  dismounted  and  gave  his 
plumed  hat  and  cloak  to  a waiting  page. 


60 


Iskander 


Alexander,  the  young  Prince,  who  was  so  soon  to 
shake  the  earth  with  the  thunder  of  his  battalions,  was 
then  at  the  beginning  of  his  heroic  career.  But  so  great 
was  the  mould  in  which  he  was  cast  and  so  transcendent 
his  talent  and  high  his  courage  and  aspirations,  that  al- 
ready he  was  the  hope  of  his  country,  as  he  was  the 
terror  of  its  numerous  enemies. 

Putting  aside  the  soft  garments  he  wore,  for  the  more 
cumbrous  habiliments  of  war,  the  Prince’s  form  displayed 
in  its  graceful  outlines  all  the  sinewy  strength  and  supple- 
ness of  the  trained  soldier.  Of  full  height,  his  bearing 
was  that  of  one  accustomed  to  command,  and  to  the  con- 
ferring of  distinction  and  honor  upon  those  about  him. 
His  countenance  was  amiable  and  pleasing,  blending  with 
the  comely  fullness  of  youth,  outlines  that  would  later  in 
life  display  the  strength  that  only  the  great  of  heart  and 
mind  possess.  His  full  lips,  while  indicating  a vehement 
temper  showed  also  the  qualities  that  cause  men  to  love 
those  about  them  and  put  trust  in  their  affection  and  loy- 
alty. The  soft  tint  of  youth  and  health  that  overspread 
his  cheeks,  gave  to  his  countenance  an  air  peculiarly  at- 
tractive to  both  men  and  women.  His  blue  eyes  were 
mild  and  reflective,  but  when  animated  by  pleasurable 
emotions,  assumed  a sparkling  radiance.  In  repose  they 
had  about  them  the  steadfast,  unwavering  look  possessed 
by  men  whose  state  constrains  them  to  listen  seriously 
and  ponder  deeply  on  what  they  see  and  hear.  But  in 
their  hidden  depths  those  who  observed  might  discern  the 
latent  fire  that,  on  the  battlefield  or  in  the  strife  of  men, 
blazed  forth  with  a flame  so  fateful  to  those  he  opposed. 
His  nose,  which  above  all  other  things  indicates  the  hid- 
den secrets  of  men,  was  prominent  above  every  other 


Alexander  and  Roxana  61 

feature,  giving  to  his  face  an  air  of  commanding  majesty 
and  force ; a force,  it  may  be  truly  said,  that  nothing  could 
tire  or  divert.  His  forehead,  full  at  the  base,  sharply  re- 
ceded to  be  lost  in  the  wilderness  of  yellow  hair  that 
curled  upward  and  backward  in  divergent  masses  over  his 
shapely  head,  like  the  waving  mane  of  an  aroused  lion. 

As  a man  the  mighty  Prince  had  many  of  the  weak- 
nesses and  passions  common  to  men  of  our  own  day. 
But  singularly  enough  for  a Macedonian  Prince  of  that 
elastic  age,  he  revered  women  both  in  thought  and  act, 
believing  unreservedly  in  their  purity  and  truthfulness. 
Differing  from  Philip  in  this  respect  his  abstinence  has 
been  attributed  to  his  great  pride  and  towering  ambi- 
tion. Whatever  may  have  been  the  cause  it  is  certain 
that  his  life  in  this  regard  was  the  most  noted  and  free 
from  criticism  of  all  the  great  men  the  world  has  ever 
known.  A man  of  open  heart  and  lavish  generosity  he 
had,  withal,  such  contrasts  of  amiability  and  fierce  un- 
governable temper  that  neither  those  who  knew  him  nor 
those  who  have  come  after,  have  been  able  to  fathom 
these  strange  contradictions  of  his  remarkable  character. 
At  his  ease,  Alexander’s  countenance  was  singularly  at- 
tractive, but  when  stirred  by  passion  or  the  strife  of  bat- 
tle, his  eyes  became  fixed  and  clothed  with  such  somber 
depths  and  hostile  will  that  no  one  could  look  upon  them 
unmoved.  Thus  stirred,  his  lips,  usually  so  amiable  and 
persuasive,  scarce  showed  their  edge ; and  his  chin,  firmer 
and  more  prominent  than  most  men’s,  grew  rigid  with 
the  intensity  of  his  passion.  At  such  times  his  face,  be- 
fore enriched  with  color,  became  white  and  tense,  his 
brows  contracting  and  pushing  forward  as  if  to  form  a 
cover  for  the  eyes  that  gleamed  beneath.  This  great 


62 


Iskander 


Prince,  unlike  his  father,  despised  artifice  or  indirection, 
preferring  ever  to  attack  and  overcome  his  enemies  in  the 
open  field.  ‘‘I  will  steal  no  victory,’'  was  his  historic  reply 
when  counseled  to  make  a night  attack  on  Darius  at 
Arbela  where  the  supremacy  of  the  world  was  to  be  deter- 
mined by  the  impending  battle.  In  his  private  relations 
with  men  and  women,  Alexander  was  amiable,  trustful 
and  loyal ; but  in  grave  affairs  of  state  imperious  and  all- 
conquering.  Of  his  chivalrous  and  lion-like  courage  his 
whole  life  bears  evidence.  Without  fear,  no  danger 
daunted  him,  no  risk  appalled  him.  Yet  there  is  no  in- 
stance throughout  his  life  of  any  needed  precaution,  how- 
ever trivial,  being  neglected  if  necessar}^  to  secure  the 
success  of  his  arms.  In  his  many  campaigns  and  sieges 
his  plans  were  carefully  formulated,  and  this  having 
been  done,  no  obstacle  was  allowed  to  prevent  their  at- 
tainment. Such  was  the  character  and  attainments  of 
this  great  and  most  chivalrous  of  Princes. 

Alexander’s  armor  which  he  now  donned,  was  no  wise 
different  from  that  of  his  companions,  except  that  it  was 
more  richly  inlaid  with  gold  and  precious  jewels.  Under- 
neath the  jointed  cuirass  of  iron  that  protected  his  arms 
and  body  he  wore  a suit  of  soft  doe-skin,  his  hands  being 
encased  in  steel-plated  gauntlets,  richly  embossed.  A 
broad  baldric,  embroidered  in  silk  and  fastened  at  the 
waist  by  a stout  belt,  supported  his  straight,  two-edged 
sword  of  Damascus  steel.  Untanned  boots  of  deer-skin, 
laced  high  in  front,  covered  his  feet  and  over  these  and 
about  his  lower  limbs  grooved  anklets  of  iron  served  as  a 
further  protection.  A gorget  of  mail,  richly  jeweled, 
composed  of  scale  armor  of  tempered  steel,  protected  his 
neck  and  throat.  Above  this  a glistening  helmet  of  iron. 


Alexander  and  Roxana  63 

inlaid  with  brass,  served  as  a cover  and  protection  to  his 
head.  Hinged  to  this,  and  projecting  from  his  forehead, 
a visor  completely  covered  and  protected  his  face.  From 
out  his  shining  helmet,  on  either  side,  there  protruded  a 
towering  plume  of  milk-white  ostrich  feathers;  and 
these,  in  the  turmoil  and  stress  of  battle,  like  his  glisten- 
ing buckler,  ever  marked  his  presence  and  cheered  his  fol- 
lowers to  victory.  In  complement  to  the  iron-clad  rider, 
scale  armor  protected  the  frojit  and  flanks  of  Alexander’s 
horse,  Bucephalus,  worthy  companion  of  so  great  and 
war-like  a Prince.  Such  was  Alexander  the  Great  as, 
having  donned  his  armor,  he  sprang  with  graceful  ease  on 
the  back  of  his  spirited  steed. 

Apart,  and  some  paces  in  the  rear  of  the  Prince,  Clitus 
followed  on.  Riding  hard,  night  and  day,  he  had  joined 
Alexander  at  Athens,  and  now  being  at  his  ease  he  be- 
strode his  horse  contentedly,  adjusting  its  pace  to  the 
movements  of  those  in  advance.  By  his  side  rode  an  aged 
man,  who,  while  he  wore  a helmet  and  gauntlets  of  steel 
with  an  affected  air,  looked,  from  his  gaunt  form  and 
pinched  face,  what  he  was — a pedagogue  rather  than  a 
soldier.  But  if  Lysimachus,  for  such  was  his  name, 
might  not  vie  with  Clitus  in  deeds  of  valor,  he  was  more 
than  a match  for  that  doughty  soldier  in  fluency  of  speech 
and  fervency  of  imagination. 

“See!”  he  exclaimed,  as  Alexander  halted  on  an  emi- 
nence to  view  the  distant  plains  of  Thessaly,  “the  Prince, 
like  a good  soldier  and  a lover  of  the  Gods,  stops  to  look 
upon  the  plain  made  sacred  by  the  glory  of  the  heroes 
who  have  traversed  it  in  ages  gone.  For  here  you  must 
know,  good  Clitus,  within  the  compass  of  our  sight  all 


64 


Iskander 


the  demigods  of  Greece  have  passed  in  their  glorious 
majesty,”  he  concluded  with  a sniffle  of  satisfaction. 

“Let  the  Prince  look  and  dream,  oh  Lysimachus,  but 
what  has  he,  whom  no  one  equals  in  arms,  to  learn  from 
the  shades  of  the  dead,  however  mighty?”  Clitus  an- 
swered, turning  away  as  if  seeing  little  in  the  subject  to 
interest  him. 

“Over  yonder  verdant  plain,”  the  old  man  went  on, 
not  noticing  Clitus’  tone  or  manner,  “Achilles  pursued 
his  foe,  and  on  that  distant  height  his  citadel  reared  its 
lofty  battlements.  Where  we  look,  Phoenix  taught  him, 
as  a youth,  how  to  guide  his  steeds  and,  afterwards,  in 
predatory  strife,  the  problems  of  the  Trojan  war,”  the 
old  man  sighed,  puckering  his  lips,  as  if  much  of  what 
he  said  was  due  to  his  telling. 

“Yours  is  an  oft-told  tale,  old  man.  Wait  till  the  Prince 
has  traversed  this  plain  with  a Macedonian  army  and  you 
will  have  something  worth  the  telling,”  Clitus  answered, 
little  dreaming  that  in  the  near  future  Alexander,  hurry- 
ing from  the  Illyrian  mountains,  would  cross  this  his- 
toric field,  carrying  such  terror  and  destruction  to  re- 
volting Thebes  as  never  before  or  afterwards  befell  a 
Grecian  city. 

“Oh  you  have  no  more  sentiment  than  a pig,  Clitus,” 
the  old  man  replied  impatiently,  holding  up  his  withered 
hand.  “Hark!  Can  you  not  hear  in  the  moaning  wind 
and  sighing  trees  the  far-resounding  hoofs  of  horsemen, 
the  clang  of  armor  and  the  cries  of  dying  men,  as  they 
rise  to  heaven  from  the  ensanguined  plain?” 

“Nay.  I hear  nothing  save  rustling  leaves  and  the 
croaking  of  frogs  in  yonder  pool,”  Clitus  answered,  mak- 
ing believe  he  listened.  “Did  Adam  and  Eve  consort 


Alexander  and  Roxana  65 

here,  think  you,  good  Lysimachus  ?”  he  went  on  derisive- 
ly. “Methinks  I see  the  tree  from  which  she  plucked  the 
forbidden  apple  to  tempt  her  unstable  spouse.” 

“Alas!  these  echoing  mountains  will  never  more  re- 
sound with  the  glorious  achievements  of  the  mighty  past. 
We  must  be  content  to  recount  Achilles’  deeds,  nor  hope 
to  equal  them,”  Lysimachus  went  on,  touching  his  hel- 
met as  if  it  were  an  ornament  merely. 

“Bah  I Ever  prating  of  Achilles ! I’m  sick  of  the  very 
name.  A laggard;  a pouting  boy,  old  man.  Our  Prince 
sends  not  his  friends  to  death  but  leads  the  way  with 
flaming  sword,”  Clitus  answered,  snapping  his  fingers  in 
the  air.  “What  has  been  done  in  the  past,  prating  old 
man,  is  as  the  pucker  of  one’s  mouth  to  the  whirl  of  bat- 
tles yet  to  come.” 

“Across  yonder  silent  plain,”  Lysimachus  went  on,  as 
if  he  had  not  heard,  “Xerxes’  myriad  host  in  panoply  of 
war  proudly  entered  Greece,  only  later,  in  mad  haste,  to 
clog  its  mountain  passes  with  their  dead  as  they  fled,  dis- 
heartened from  the  pursuing  Greeks.” 

“Xerxes,  himself,  being  well  in  advance,  oh  Lysi- 
machus, like  the  prudent  man  he  was,”  Clitus  interposed. 

“From  yonder  harbor,  scarce  discernible,  Jason,  with 
the  brave  Argonauts,  set  sail  in  search  of  the  Golden 
Fleece.  From  those  beetling  cliffs,  which  you  can  plainly 
see,  Hercules  and  Perseus  met  their  death ; and  but  a step 
away,  such  is  the  story,  brave  Pelopidas  fell,  pursuing 
the  tyrant  Jason  amid  the  bristling  pikes  and  gleaming 
swords  of  his  distracted  army,”  Lysimachus  went  on,  as 
his  worn  eyes  scanned  the  distant  horizon. 

“Therein  showing  himself  to  be  a foolish  ass,  Lysi- 
machus. For  it  is  no  part  of  wisdom  for  a general  to 


66 


Iskander 


avenge  his  private  wrongs  on  the  field  of  battle.  Thus, 
too,  the  younger  Cyrus  lost  his  life  and  Persia’s  golden 
crown.  Our  Prince  will  have  more  sense.” 

“Nay,  he  will  pass  like  a shadow  doing  nothing.  For 
Philip  will  have  garnered  all  the  wheat  ere  he  grasps  the 
sickle.” 

“Bah!  The  King  is  but  plowing  the  ground  about  the 
homestead  for  Alexander  to  sow;  and  going  far,  fill  the 
annals  of  all  the  world  with  the  splendor  of  his  exploits.” 

“Ye  Gods,  if  that  be  true  and  it  be  told  that  I,  Lysi- 
machus,  taught  him,  as  Phoenix  taught  the  mighty  Achil- 
les!” 

“It  will  be  told  of  you,  old  man,  that  you  loved  and 
flattered  him,  but  that  he  was  taught  strength  and  wis- 
dom by  the  princely  Leonidas  and  Aristotle,  the  plodding 
pedagogue. 

“I  not  less,  Clitus,  and  if  I sought  to  throw  some  sun- 
light across  his  rugged  path  what  was  the  harm?”  Lysi- 
machus  answered  resentfully. 

“Therein  you  did  well,  old  man,  for  he  should  have 
been  taught  more  follies  in  his  youth,  Leonidas  was  too 
serious.  He  thought  only  of  Alexander’s  body  and  a 
soldier’s  calling.  Bah!  the  Prince  should  have  been 
taught  to  love  and  take  pleasure  in  parading  his  horse 
before  the  fine  ladies  of  the  court!  They  were  far  bet- 
ter company  than  the  book-worm  Aristotle,  or  the  crab- 
bed Leonidas.  Our  Prince  is  too  old,  too  old,  Lysi- 
machus,  too  old  for  so  young  a man,”  Clitus  exclaimed  in 
disgust. 

“ ’Tis  the  burden  he  bears,  not  his  training,  good  Clitus, 
that  gives  him  the  air  of  being  old.  Sorrow  is  ever  the 
heritage  of  those  who  rule  the  savage  men  and  women  of 


Alexander  and  Roxana 


67 


Macedonia,  or  watch  the  still  more  savage  people  upon 
its  borders.  When  every  cup  may  poison  and  every  cloud 
of  smoke  foretell  the  invasion  of  a savage  foe,  can  one 
expect  our  rulers  to  look  otherwise?  It  is  these  sombre 
shadows,  Clitus,  that  lead  Philip,  the  King,  to  seek  in 
wine  and  the  companionship  of  bibbers  and  lewd  women, 
forgetfulness  and  oblivion.  Alexander  is  old  while  yet 
young,  and  his  laughter  rings  with  the  sombre  thoughts 
of  men  who  have  much  to  expect  and  more  to  fear.  W ere 
he  a simple  man  and  not  a Prince,  he  would  be  a poet  and 
student,  for  thus  his  mind  inclines.” 

“ ’Tis  in  that  way  you  think  of  him,  say  what  you  will, 
Lysimachus,  though  you  call  him  Achilles  to  his  face 
in  fulsome  flattery.” 

“You  think  of  him,  Clitus,  only  as  a warrior,  born  to 
cut  and  hew  men,  and  therein  do  him  grievous  wrong.” 

“What  else  is  there  worthy  of  him,  old  man  ? That  is 
the  serious  business  of  our  age.  Study  is  but  a means  of 
expanding  the  minds  of  men  that  they  may  be  more  fit 
to  command.  You  should  have  seen  your  poet  and  scholar 
at  Cheronea  when,  snatching  a bugle  from  a waiting  sol- 
dier, he  sounded  the  charge,  leading  it  afterwards  with 
headlong  fury  full  upon  the  Sacred  Band,”  Clitus  cried, 
turning  away  and  leaving  the  old  man  to  his  reflections.* 


*In  excuse  of  Lysimachus’  pertinacity,  it  is  to  be  said  that  about 
no  other  spot  in  the  world  does  there  cluster  so  many  memories 
of  the  heroic  men  of  antiquity  as  about  the  Thessalian  plain  upon 
which  he  gazed. 


CHAPTER  V. 


THE  THEBAN  AMBUSCADE. 

Immediately  behind  the  Prince  and  the  officers  and 
pages  who  surrounded  him  in  glittering  armor,  a squad- 
ron of  the  Companion  Cavalry  followed  in  orderly  array. 
The  invincible  corps  to  which  this  body  of  men  belonged 
was  made  up  wholly  of  nobles  and  their  sons  and  the  more 
opulent  landed  proprietors  of  Macedonia  and  the  coun- 
tries under  its  sway.  Armed  with  long  sword,  shield  and 
lance,  oftentimes  with  javelin,  the  Companion  Cavalry 
was  the  most  formidable  body  of  armed  men  known  to 
the  ancient  world.  Their  defensive  armor  was  the  same 
as  that  of  the  Prince,  the  front  and  flanks  of  their  horses 
being  also  protected  by  scale  armor.  Each  member  of 
this  renowned  troop,  like  the  knights  of  medieval  days, 
was  attended  by  a squire  and  one  or  more  slaves  whose 
duty  it  was  to  carry  the  weapons  and  armor  of  the  Com- 
panion and  attend  to  his  horse  and  baggage.  Back  of 
this  troop  in  the  center  of  the  column,  the  pack-animals 
in  charge  of  slaves,  were  marshaled.  Still  further  on 
a body  of  light  Thracian  cavalry  followed.  These  were 
armed  with  spear  and  shield,  their  horses  having  no  de- 
fensive armor  of  any  kind.  Still  other  troops  made  up  of 
bowmen,  darters  and  slingers  brought  up  the  rear.  These 
were  followed  by  a motley  crowd  of  soldiers  and  mer- 
cenaries, whose  time  of  service  having  expired,  now 
sought  the  cover  of  Alexander’s  arms  to  regain  their 
homes.  Mingling  with  them  were  vagrant  minstrels,  con- 

(68) 


The  Theban  Ambuscade  69 

jurers,  acrobats  and  strolling  players,  the  mongrel  riff- 
raff that  ever  attached  itself  to  the  movement  of  armies 
in  ancient  times.  These,  because  of  their  appetite  and 
unappeasable  thirst,  Clitus  aptly  called  the  “Hungry 
Horde.” 

Reaching  the  edge  of  the  forest  Alexander  halted  to 
again  survey  the  extended  view  before  descending  into 
the  open  plain. 

“By  the  beard  of  Cyclops,”  Clitus  exclaimed  im- 
patiently from  the  rear,  “night  will  ovei'take  us  ere  we 
find  a fit  place  to  camp.” 

“What  place  could  you  find  more  fit  than  this?”  Lysi- 
machus  answered,  viewing  the  extended  landscape  with 
tranquil  unconcern. 

“For  you,  none,  old  man;  but  for  horses  and  men, 
water  as  well  as  a bed  is  needed,”  Clitus  muttered  in  bad 
humor.  “But  what’s  in  the  wind !”  he  went  on,  starting 
up.  “See,  the  young  war-dogs  scatter  as  if  a battle  were 
impending  and  the  troops  to  be  rallied  to  a charge!”  and 
hurrying  forward  he  quickly  reached  the  side  of  the 
Prince. 

“You  are  in  good  time,  Clitus.  What  make  you  of 
yonder  body  of  men  hidden  from  the  highway  behind  the 
grove  of  olive  trees  and  ascending  ground?”  the  Prince 
exclaimed,  pointng  to  a dark  object  a mile  away. 

“By  the  eye  of  Cyclops,  ’tis  a body  of  cavalry,  oh 
Prince,  and  heavily  armed  I See  the  glint  of  their  lances 
and  the  headgear  of  the  horses  in  the  falling  sunlight.” 

“They  stand  at  arms  and  in  close  array,  their  spears 
projecting  as  if  awaiting  a signal  to  charge.  ’Tis  an  am- 
buscade, Clitus,  and  planned  for  our  undoing  had  we 


70 


Iskander 


descended  by  the  beaten  road,”  Alexander  exclaimed, 
scanning  the  distant  body. 

“But  from  whence  come  they,  oh  Prince?  For  there 
is  not  an  armed  man  in  all  northern  Greece  save  those  in 
the  King’s  service.” 

“They  are  not  men,  but  the  somber  shades  of  those 
who  have  fallen  in  battle,  come  back  to  array  themselves 
again  in  the  panoply  of  war,”  Lysimachus  here  interposed 
with  quavering  voice. 

“They  are  neither  shades  nor  Macedonians,  gentle  mas- 
ter,” Alexander  answered,  smiling  amiably  on  the  old 
man,  “but  Theban  soldiers  as  you  may  see,  who,  fleeing 
from  Cheronea,  are  marshaled  anew  to  give  us  battle. 
’Tis  a brave  thought,  Clitus,  and  it  shall  not  be  said  that 
we  declined  the  challenge,”  and  turning  to  Eumenes,  who 
remained  near  him,  he  cried : “Hasten  to  Nearchus  and 
the  others  and  bid  them  lose  no  time  in  bringing  the 
troops  forward  marshaled  for  battle.” 

“We  shall  need  them  all  if  my  eyes  have  not  weakened 
with  age,”  Clitus  interposed,  scanning  the  distant  enemy. 

“Plow  many  do  they  number,  think  you?”  the  Prince 
asked,  turning  his  attention  anew  to  the  Theban  troop. 

“Twenty  lochus  of  sixteen  men  each,  and  not  a man 
missing,  oh  Prince.” 

“Thrice  our  number.  But  the  more  glory,  Clitus,  if  we 
conquer.” 

“I  would  they  were  twice  as  many,”  Clitus  cried  with 
savage  energy. 

“Do  not  despise  an  enemy  ere  you  strike  a blow,  good 
friend.  And  that  we  may  do  no  foolish  thing,  Clitus,  take 


The  Theban  Ambuscade  71 

the  Thracian  horse  and,  keeping  in  the  shadow  of  the 
trees,  descend  into  the  plain  by  the  beaten  road.” 

“Yes,  oh  Prince.” 

“When  the  Thebans  charge  fall  back  as  if  afraid,  and 
as  they  follow  in  pursuit  we  will  attack  them  on  the 
flank.” 

“And  so  destroy  them ! A sweet  trap  and  much  to  my 
liking  save  the  order  to  retreat.” 

“ ’Twill  be  for  a moment  only.  When  we  charge  you 
will  wheel  about  from  yonder  rising  ground,”  he  went  on, 
turning  to  point  out  the  spot. 

“But  see,  Clitus !”  he  cried  after  a moment,  surprised, 
“what  body  of  men  is  that  emerging  from  the  cover  of 
the  trees,  where  you  were  to  have  made  the  sally?  Are 
they  phantoms,  as  Lysimachus  will  aver,  or  flesh  and 
blood?” 

“ ’Tis  a band  of  mountebanks  and  strolling  players, 
journeying  to  Pella,  to  gather  the  wealth  of  our  return- 
ing soldiers,”  Clitus  exclaimed  disdainfully. 

“No!  Actors  do  not  travel  in  such  state  in  these  war- 
worn days,  but  obscurely  and  afoot,  or  on  half-starved 
asses.” 

“ ’Tis  the  remnant  of  Xerxes’  host  and  nothing  else,” 
Lysimachus  interposed  anew,  his  face  blanched  with 
superstitious  fear.  “See  you  not  the  lumbering  camels 
and  Persian  horsemen  with  prancing  steeds  and  waving 
plumes?  Stir  not  for  your  life,  sweet  Prince,  for  the 
plain  swarms  with  the  shades  of  those  long  dead  against 
whom  your  arms  will  avail  nothing.” 

“They  are  no  more  the  shades  of  men  than  the  others, 
gentle  Lysimachus,”  Alexander  answered,  his  face  bright- 


72 


Iskander 


ening.  “But  the  Persian  embassy  on  its  way  to  Pella. 
And  ’tis  for  them  the  Theban  ambush  is  planned — not 
us,”  he  went  on,  noting  the  brilliant  dress  of  the  Persian 
horsemen. 

“Yes,  and  see!  The  outlaws  prepare  to  charge,”  Clitus 
cried,  as  the  peaceful  cavalcade  neared  the  grove  of  olive 
trees. 

“And  doing  so  will  beat  down  the  Persian  defense  as 
leaves  are  scattered  by  the  wind,”  Alexander  cried  with 
angry  voice. 

“Look ! the  gallant  band  at  last  discovers  the  trap  and 
group  their  animals  to  form  a defense.  But  ’twill  be  a 
useless  labor.  Eye  of  Cyclops ! See,  oh  Prince,  the  craven 
escort  already  turn  and  fly.  For  shame,  for  shame!” 
Clitus  screamed. 

To  this  outcry  Alexander  made  no  reply,  but  wheeling 
about  and  facing  his  waiting  troops,  cried  with  impas- 
sioned voice : 

“A  band  of  Theban  outlaws  from  Cheronea  attack  the 
Persian  embassy,  a peaceful  company  on  its  way  to 
Pella!  To  the  rescue,  soldiers,  in  the  King’s  name !”  And 
lifting  his  spear  as  a signal  to  charge  he  turned  his  horse, 
and  driving  deep  his  spurs,  shot  like  an  arrow  into  the 
open  plain.  The  waiting  troops,  cheering  the  Prince  with 
one  voice,  responded  with  eagerness  to  his  command,  fol- 
lowing fast  behind  amid  the  blare  of  trumpets  and  the 
clang  of  armor  on  horse  and  man. 

“Hold,  oh  Prince ! Nor  charge  in  advance  of  the  Com- 
panions,” Clitus  cried  amid  the  thunder  of  the  horses’ 
hoofs,  spurring  to  keep  pace  with  his  master.  “ ’Twould 
be  a foolish  thing  to  be  killed  by  a Theban  renegade!” 


The  Theban  Ambuscade  73 

But  the  Prince,  making  no  answer,  kept  on  his  way,  his 
war  horse,  as  if  scenting  the  battle,  increasing  his  speed 
with  every  stride.  And  soon  all  were  left  behind  save 
Clitus,  who,  better  mounted  than  the  others,  and  urging 
his  horse  to  the  utmost,  kept  near  his  master. 

Making  such  defense  as  their  small  number  permitted 
the  Persian  noblemen  faced  their  enemies  with  cour- 
ageous front.  But  unavailingly,  for  the  Thebans  swarm- 
ing about  them  on  every  side,  quickly  beat  down  their 
swords  and  so  had  them  at  their  mercy.  But  further  than 
this  they  did  them  no  harm,  designing,  it  was  apparent,  to 
hold  them  captives  for  ransom  or,  this  not  forthcoming, 
for  such  punishment  as  Theban  cruelty  could  devise.  The 
Persian  nobles  disarmed  and  put  aside,  the  robbers  lost  no 
time  in  securing  the  frightened  animals  and  the  precious 
treasure  they  bore.  Occupied  in  this  way,  amidst  fright- 
ful cries  and  the  clash  of  armor  and  neighing  of  horses, 
Alexander’s  approach  was  unnoticed  by  the  Thebans 
until  he  was  full  upon  them.  Casting  aside  his  spear  as 
a useless  weapon  where  so  many  were  opposed,  he  drew 
his  sword  and  charged  the  disorganized  Theban  band  at 
topmost  speed,  with  the  cry,  “For  the  King.”  Trampling 
or  cutting  down  all  who  stood  in  his  path,  and  as  a ship 
forces  its  way  through  the  foaming  waves,  he  reached  the 
center  of  the  throng,  his  plume  waving  high  above  those 
about  him,  and  serving  as  a guide  to  Clitus  and  those  who 
followed. 

Reaching  the  trembling  dromedaries,  he  cleared  a space 
with  his  long  and  sweeping  blade,  and  doing  so,  cut  down 
a stalwart  Theban  who  sought  to  tear  apart  the  silken 
canopy  that  surmounted  the  back  of  one  of  the  frightened 


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Iskander 


animals.  As  the  Theban  fell,  a woman’s  delicate  hand 
parted  the  curtain  and  Alexander  saw,  not  heaped  up 
treasures,  but  a face  of  resplendent  beauty  in  whose  agi- 
tated features  despair  and  fixed  resolve  were  clearly 
shown.  Beholding  Alexander,  and  near  him  the  stricken 
Theban,  her  face  lighted,  and  holding  out  her  arms  in 
loving  impulse,  a poniard,  that  she  grasped,  dropped  to 
the  ground. 

Not  long  he  gazed,  for  the  Theban  outlaws,  overcom- 
ing their  quick  surprise,  rained  blow  upon  blow  on  his 
steel-clad  armor.  Turning  and  using  the  cowering  drom- 
edary as  a shield,  he  parried  with  buckler  and  sword  the 
thrusts  that  sought  from  every  direction  to  put  an  end  to 
his  life.  While  thus  beset,  a Theban,  watching  his  chance 
and  coming  up  behind,  raised  his  ponderous  blade  to 
cleave  the  Prince’s  skull.  But  Clitus,  forcing  his  way 
to  Alexander’s  side  with  ponderous  blows,  observing  the 
outlaw’s  action,  caught  the  descending  blade  upon  his 
own.  Raising  his  weapon  in  return  he  severed  the  rob- 
ber’s uplifted  arm,  the  unused  weapon  falling  to  the 
ground  still  grasped  in  the  stiffened  hand. 

"You  did  the  like  for  me  at  Cheronea,”  Clitus  cried 
with  cheerful  gallantry,  defending  himself  on  every  side. 

“Thanks,  Clitus;  ’twas  a brave  stroke,”  Alexander 
cried,  as  he  parried  a blow  with  his  buckler  and,  leaning 
far  forward  on  his  horse,  killed  a Theban  soldier  who 
threatened  him  with  his  spear. 

“ ’Tis  a merry  fight,  my  Prince,  a merry  fight!”  Clitus 
cried,  swinging  his  broad  sword  and  cleaving  the  casque 
of  an  enemy  down  to  his  breast  plate.  “What,  smut 
face!”  he  went  on,  turning  about,  “will  you  have  it!  But, 


The  Theban  Ambuscade  75 

eye  of  Cyclops,  I spare  you  for  Bacchus’  sake,”  he  ex- 
claimed, bringing  the  flat  of  his  sword  down  on  the 
casque  of  a red-faced  Theban  who  crowded  forward  to 
avenge  his  companion. 

Thus  the  Prince  and  his  companion  maintained  their 
place  undaunted,  cutting  and  thrusting  as  their  enemies 
crowded  close  upon  them.  But  presently,  Hephestion 
joining  them,  the  three  made  headway  against  the  fierce 
onslaught  of  their  enemies.  While  thus  hotly  engaged 
the  blare  of  the  Macedonian  bugles  and  the  resounding 
hoofs  of  the  approaching  horsemen  apprised  them  that 
aid  was  near  at  hand.  And,  indeed,  its  coming  was 
quicker  than  they  thought,  for  the  Theban  outlaws, 
already  surprised  by  Alexander’s  sudden  onslaught,  hear- 
ing the  trumpets  and  the  fierce  war-cry  of  the  Companion 
Cavalry  and  believing  the  whole  of  Philip’s  army  was 
upon  them,  turned  and  fled. 

Freed  from  his  assailants,  Alexander’s  eyes  again 
sought  the  silken  howdah.  Its  curtains  now  were  thrown 
aside  and  from  out  their  folds  the  beautiful  face  looked 
down  upon  him,  the  eyes  filled  with  tears  of  joy  and 
thankfulness.  Greeting  him  with  a smile,  she  detached 
the  veil  that  covered  her  head  and  threw  it  to  him  as  if 
constrained  to  afford  him  some  token  of  her  gratitude. 
Grasping  it  as  it  fluttered  to  the  ground,  he  raised  his 
visor,  crying  high  above  the  tumult,  “Fear  naught,  the 
King’s  arms  guard  you!”  saying  which  he  turned  and 
raising  his  sword  high  in  the  air  as  a signal  to  pursue  the 
flying  foe,  he  himself  led  the  charge  in  person  as  before. 
Nor  needed  they  such  command,  but  followed  swiftly  on, 
their  hearts  filled  with  fierce  rage  as  they  cut  deep  into 


76 


I skander 


the  Theban  band,  sparing  none.  In  this  way  the  pursuit 
continued  as  the  day  waned,  the  outlaws  turning  again 
and  again  as  they  saw  the  small  number  of  their  enemies. 
But  their  courage  proving  of  no  avail  against  the  fierce 
onslaught  of  the  Macedonians,  the  fierce  pursuit  kept  up 
until  the  Thebans,  reaching  the  dark  and  tangled  for- 
ests of  the  Enipetis,  were  lost  in  its  gloomy  depths. 

Alexander  bidding  the  trumpeters  sound  the  recall,  the 
Macedonians  soon  gathered  about  their  leader,  and  rais- 
ing the  pxan  of  victory,  the  exultant  soldiers  took  up 
their  line  of  march  for  the  camp,  the  fires  of  which 
showed  faintly  on  the  distant  horizon. 


CHAPTER  VI. 


AFTER  THE  BATTLE. 

As  Alexander  and  the  soldiers  neared  the  camp  a great 
outcry  was  heard  a little  way  off,  where  a blazing  fire 
shot  high  into  the  evening  sky. 

“ ’Tis  the  ‘Hungry  Horde,’  and  with  full  stomachs 
by  the  sound,”  Clitus  cried,  with  a wry  face,  tightening 
his  belt. 

“Yes;  they  despoiled  the  Theban  camp  ere  you  were 
half  a mile  away,  and  so  have  both  supped  and  drank,” 
Lysimachus,  who  had  gone  out  to  meet  the  Prince,  an- 
swered. 

“Ours  is  a sweet  revenge  on  the  treacherous  Thebans. 
For  while  they  will  die  wthout  an  outcry,  they  cannot 
abide  hunger  or  thirst,”  Clitus  exclaimed,  thinking  of  the 
foe  wandering  in  the  tangled  forest  without  supper  or 
bed. 

“The  plunder  of  the  camp  belongs  of  right  to  those 
who  fought  and  not  to  those  who  follow  like  wolves  scent- 
ing prey,”  Seleucus,  who  thought  much  of  the  spoils  of 
battle,  angrily  interposed. 

“There  was  naught  but  food  and  wine,”  Lysimachus 
answered  amiably. 

“What  does  that  matter?  Such  spoil  is  much  to  my 
liking,  and  the  wine  most  of  all.  By  the  Gods,  Clitus, 
they  shall  be  scourged  by  slaves  for  their  impudence.” 

(77) 


78 


I skander 


“Nay,”  Alexander  mildly  interposed,  “leave  them  alone, 
Seleucus,  for  they  are  both  hungry  and  thirsty,  while 
we  have  plenty.” 

“The  plunder  being  plentiful  will  keep  them  many  a 
day.  For  the  Thebans,  who  love  to  eat  and  lift  the  wine- 
skin, travel  not  with  empty  larders,”  Ptolemy  exclaimed 
laughing. 

“ 'Tis  wholesome  to  have  a good  appetite,  and  thirst  is 
not  a thing  to  be  despised.  I warrant  you  the  wine  is 
strong,”  Clitus  exclaimed,  as  the  voices  of  the  revelers 
became  plainly  discernible,  singing  an  ancient  hymn  of 
Bacchus.  “I  would  I had  a sip  of  the  stuff,  for  my 
throat’s  as  dry  as  the  treasury  of  Athens.” 

“Let  us  hasten  then,  good  Clitus,  for  the  Persian 
grandee,  Oxyartes,in  thankful  mood,  has  sent  to  the  camp 
a dozen  skins  of  his  choicest  wine,  a drop  of  which  I 
tasted  ere  setting  out,”  Lysimachus  answered,  smacking 
his  parched  lips. 

Word  of  this  abundance  presently  reaching  the  worn 
soldiers,  there  was  a joyful  shout,  which  Alexander  hear- 
ing, stirred  his  steed  into  a gallop.  Observing  this,  those 
who  followed  clapped  spurs  to  their  horses  and  in  an 
instant  all  discipline  was  lost  in  the  mad  race  to  reach 
the  camp.  This  had  been  fixed  by  the  patient  slaves, 
near  a mountain  stream,  the  Persian  camp  being  placed 
somewhat  apart  in  the  open  plain.  Anticipating  an  early 
return  of  the  pursuing  troops,  fires  were  burning  through- 
out the  camp  and  every  preparation  made  for  the  evening 
meal.  This  consisted  of  the  Macedonian  ration  of  salt- 
meat,  barley-cakes,  cheese,  olives  and  onions,  and  if  it 
afforded  no  great  variety  was  none  the  less  inviting  to 


Af  ter  the  Battle 


79 


the  worn  troops.  Reaching  the  camp  they  sprang  from 
their  horses  and,  throwing  their  bridle  reins  to  waiting 
slaves,  the  hungry  soldiers  lost  no  time  in  sitting  down 
to  the  bountiful  repast,  washing  down  the  strong  food 
with  copious  draughts  of  the  Persian  wine.  This  they 
drank  from  tankards  of  leather  or,  more  primitive  still, 
from  the  ancient  bull’s  horn  of  their  country.  And  soon 
their  hunger  being  appeased,  loud  laughter  and  joyful 
song  succeeded,  not  less  boisterous  than  that  which  still 
sounded  from  the  camp  of  the  “Hungry  Horde.” 

“There’s  nothing  like  a battle,  Lysimachus,  and  a stub- 
born pursuit,  to  give  one  an  appetite,”  Clitus  gasped, 
draining  his  goblet.  “It  is  far  better  than  watching  sheep 
amid  the  mountain  mists,”  he  went  on,  thinking  of  his 
youth.  “ ’Tis  more  wholesome,  too,  old  man,  and  for  a 
burning  thirst  there  is  no  comparison.  By  the  beard  of 
Cyclops,  I could  love  the  Thebans  for  their  appetite  and 
parched  throats,  if  they  were  less  filthy  and  regarded  the 
truth  more.  But  come,  Lysimachus,”  he  cried,  springing 
to  his  feet,  “we  must  be  off.  No!  not  another  drop. 
Why  man,”  he  exclaimed,  noticing  for  the  first  time  that 
Lysimachus  was  far  gone  with  intoxication,  “you  are 
drunk!” 

“Say  not  so,  Clitus.  Have  we  not  cut  the  enemy  to 
pieces  and  put  him  to  rout,  and  so  may  indulge  ourselves 
a little?  Nor  shall  we  taste  such  wine  again  until  Babylon 
falls  and  Persia’s  won.  ’Tis  not  wine!  But  the  ambro- 
sia of  the  Gods.  A night  is  all  too  short  for  such  a 
feast,”  the  old  man  cried  in  maudlin  humor,  draining  his 
cup. 

“All  things  in  reason,  old  man.  Now  we  must  to  the 


80  Iskander 

Prince,  who  will  be  furious  at  your  long  absence,”  Clitus 
answered  facetiously. 

“Yes,  ’tis  true,  the  Prince  is  irritated  when  I am  not 
near  him,  and  though  the  pace  sometimes  tires,  I will  not 
distress  him  with  complaints,”  the  other  answered  with  a 
silly  smile. 

“ ’Tis  clever  in  you,  but  come,  now  for  a brisk  walk 
in  the  cool  air,”  and  putting  his  arm  about  the  old  man 
he  lifted  him  to  his  feet. 

Alexander,  meanwhile,  on  reaching  the  camp  had  lost 
no  time  in  visiting  and  comforting  the  wounded,  making 
such  provision  for  their  care  as  his  love  for  his  soldiers 
ever  prompted  throughout  his  battle-scarred  life.  Com- 
ing at  last  to  his  own  tent  he  was  surprised  and  grieved 
to  find  Hephestion  with  his  head  and  sword-arm  swathed 
in  linen  bandages.  Between  these  two,  one  self-willed 
and  fiery,  the  other  mild  and  inoffensive  of  temper,  there 
had  existed  from  their  childhood  the  tenderest  affection; 
an  affection  destined  to  grow  in  strength  each  day  as  long 
as  they  lived.  Others,  Alexander  honored  and  treasured 
but  for  Hephestion  he  possessed  the  deepest  love,  seeming 
to  find  in  his  society  the  restfulness  his  proud  and  ad- 
venturous nature  craved.  Seeing  his  friend  return  un- 
harmed, Hephestion,  who  sat  disconsolate,  held  out  his 
hands  in  welcome,  tears  darkening  his  mild  eyes. 

“By  the  Gods,  if  you  are  hurt  to  death  not  one  Theban 
shall  live  to  tell  the  tale!”  Alexander  cried  in  furious 
wrath,  bending  over  the  white  face  of  his  friend. 

“Nay!  my  hurts  are  but  trifles,  skin-wounds,  that  will 
be  well  within  the  month, ’’Hephestion  answered  with  a 
faint  smile. 


Af  ter  the  Battle 


81 


“I  missed  you  in  the  pursuit,  but  thought  you  had 
stayed  to  still  the  Persians’  fright,”  Alexander  answered, 
kissing  him  on  both  his  cheeks. 

“Nay,  I sought  to  follow,  sweet  friend,  but  ere  I had 
gone  the  length  of  my  horse  I toppled  over  and  fell  head- 
long to  the  ground  like  the  weakling  I am.” 

“You  are  no  weakling,  Hephestion,  else  I am  one.  For 
nothing  that  I have  done  but  you  might  have  done  it  bet- 
ter. But  what  leech  mended  you,  for  I thought  all  fol- 
lowed in  the  hot  pursuit?” 

“A  woman,  Alexander!  And  such  a one  as  never  be- 
fore bound  up  the  wounds  of  a stricken  man  on  Grecian 
soil,”  Hephestion  answered,  his  face  flushing  at  the  recol- 
lection. 

“A  woman!”  Alexander  exclaimed,  scrutinizing  the 
other,  thinking  his  mind  wandered. 

“Yes;  nor  could  you  guess  who  she  is  in  a year’s  time.” 

“Tell  me,  sweet  friend,  for  you  know  I am  not  good 
at  solving  riddles,”  Alexander  answered  anxiously,  gaz- 
ing upon  his  wounded  companion. 

“This  is  no  riddle,  Alexander,  for  my  nurse  was  no 
other  than  the  Persian  Princess.” 

“The  Princess  Roxana!”  Alexander  cried,  thinking  of 
the  face  that  had  looked  down  on  him  from  the  silken 
canopy,  and  wondering  if  it  were  she. 

“Yes;  and  so  gentle  was  her  touch  and  so  sweet  the 
perfume  of  her  presence  that  my  wounds  lost  all  their 
sting  in  the  delight  of  having  them  bound  by  such  soft 
hands.” 

“Tell  me,  good  friend,  which  was  she?  Not  the 
maiden  who  watched  from  the  towering  dromedary  be- 


82 


Iskander 


side  which  we  fought?’’  Alexander  questioned,  his  face 
flaming  at  the  recollection  of  the  beautiful  being. 

‘‘Yes,  that  was  she,  Roxana  herself.  Nor  could  there 
be  another  like  her  in  all  the  world.” 

“How  did  it  happen  that  she  attended  you?  Was  there 
no  leech  at  hand?” 

“I  know  not;  only  when  I opened  my  eyes  as  I lay 
prostrate  on  the  ground,  she  was  bending  over  me  and 
searching  out  my  wounds.  When  I protested  she  bade 
me  keep  my  peace,  and  with  expressions  of  joy  that  I was 
hurt  no  worse.  Her  task  completed,  she  hastened  to  the 
side  of  my  companions,  who,  like  myself,  had  been 
wounded  in  the  fight.” 

“Did  she  minister  to  them  in  like  manner?” 

“Yes,  to  every  one.  Nor  did  she  cease  until  all  were 
placed  beneath  the  cover  of  the  tents.  Then  smiling  upon 
us  as  we  lay  watching  her,  she  waved  her  hand  and  has- 
tened away  to  minister  to  her  own  people.  ’Twas  such  a 
vision,  sweet  Prince,  as  man  never  saw  on  battlefield  be- 
fore, nor  will  again,”  Hephestion  answered,  raising  his 
eyes  to  heaven  as  if  offering  a prayer. 

“You  say  truly,  Hephestion,  for  I myself  saw  her  as 
she  peered  down  from  the  back  of  the  dromedary.  And 
now  not  less  plainly  than  then,”  he  went  on  under 
his  breath.  “But  rest  you  here  till  I return,  for  I must 
not  longer  delay  my  visit  to  the  Persian  embassy  to  wel- 
come them  in  the  King’s  name  and  make  inquiries  as  to 
their  needs,”  and  hastening  away,  he  mounted  his  horse, 
calling  to  Clitus  and  Lysimachus,  who  approached,  to 
attend  him. 

Nearing  the  camp  of  the  embassy,  arrayed  in  glisten- 


After  the  Battle 


83 


ing  armor,  the  more  superstitious  cried  out  on  beholding 
him  in  the  bright  moonlight,  that  it  was  a God.  Seeing 
him  more  closely  the  Persians  raised  a shout,  and  leaving 
their  tents,  hastened  to  meet  him  with  cries  of  welcome. 
Oxyartes,  the  chief  of  the  embassy,  pushing  his  way 
through  the  excited  throng,  threw  his  arms  about  Alexan- 
der, crying  out : 

“Deliverer  and  saviour ! I greet  and  thank  you  for  your 
bravery  and  timely  aid.” 

“You  owe  me  no  thanks,  good  friend,  for  I but  did 
what  the  King  would  have  commanded  in  thus  discharg- 
ing his  vengeance  on  the  outlawed  band,”  Alexander  an- 
swered. 

“Nay,  ’tis  to  you  we  are  beholden.  For  myself  I owe 
you  more  than  life,  and  so  it  is  that  my  thanks  but  poorly 
express  the  throbbing  of  my  heart,”  Oxyartes  replied, 
remembering  his  daughter  and  the  fate  that  would  have 
been  hers  had  she  fallen  into  the  hands  of  the  Theban 
outlaws.  “Tell  me  your  name,  oh  Prince!  For  sure  I am 
you  are  of  no  less  exalted  rank.” 

“Ye  Gods!  Can  it  be,  Clitus,”  Lysimachus  here  broke 
in,  “that  there  lives  a man  after  Cheronea  who  does  not 
know  the  Prince!” 

“Hush,  babbler ! Men  are  but  moles  and  know  not  that 
there  is  a sun,”  Clitus  answered  with  a dry  laugh. 

“Macedonia  has  many  princes,  oh  Persian,”  Alexander 
answered,  “and  of  sueh  rank  am  I.  But  most  of  all,  I am 
a loyal  subject  of  the  King.  And  you,  if  1 mistake  not, 
are  Oxyartes,  Prince  of  Bactria,  charged  with  the  Persian 
embassy?”  he  concluded,  saluting  Oxyartes  and  the  Per- 
sian nobles  grouped  about  him. 


84 


Iskander 


''Yes,  most  gracious  of  Princes,  and  as  such  I crave  the 
hospitality  of  your  country,''  the  other  answered,  bowing 
low  in  return. 

"The  very  Gods  command  us  to  be  hospitable  to  stran- 
gers, and  'tis  an  obligation  the  King  delights  to  honor," 
Alexander  answered  graciously. 

"Thanks,  noble  Prince.  We  expected  no  less  from 
your  brave  and  exalted  King.  But  come,"  Oxyartes  went 
on,  "honor  our  encampment  by  dismounting  that  we 
may  offer  you  some  slight  refreshment,  of  which  you 
must  stand  much  in  need  after  the  conflict  and  hot  pur- 
suit." 

"Ere  doing  that,  exalted  Prince,  I anticipate  the  com- 
mands of  the  King  by  proffering  you  the  cover  of  my 
escort  in  your  further  journey  to  Pella,"  Alexander  ex- 
claimed with  smiling  countenance. 

"In  the  same  spirit  I accept  the  gracious  offer,  oh 
Prince,  if  I may,  without  trespassing  upon  your  kind- 
ness," Oxyartes  answered,  highly  pleased. 

"We  go  direct  to  Pella  and  so  will  be  both  accommo- 
dated and  honored  by  the  trust,"  Alexander  replied. 

"In  this  meeting  I see  a happy  chance,  oh  Prince,  and 
harbinger  of  success  for  my  mission  to  Pella,"  Oxyartes 
exclaimed  with  elated  countenance.  "For  I come  with 
offers  of  brotherly  alliance  and  messages  of  amity  and 
love  from  my  august  master  to  the  puissant  King  of 
Macedonia.  I am  favored  above  all  men  in  being  chosen 
thus  to  represent  the  great  King,  and  now,  because  of  this 
day's  happenings,  esteem  the  honor  all  the  greater." 

"You  are  most  kind,  noble  Prince.  The  King,  who 
will  shortly  return  to  Pella,  will  there  welcome  you  and 


Af  ter  the  Battle 


85 


strive  to  make  your  stay  at  his  capital  notable  for  its 
friendly  hospitality,”  Alexander  responded. 

“The  gallantry  of  the  King’s  soldiers  leads  us  to  look 
forward  to  a happy  sojourn  in  his  capital.  But,  ere  we 
sup,  I crave  permission  to  present  my  daughter  to  her 
preserver,  oh  Prince,  that  she  may  thank  him  in  person,” 
Oxyartes  exclaimed,  looking  toward  Roxana’s  tent, 
where  she  stood  revealed,  awaiting  his  coming. 


CHAPTER  VII. 


THE  PERSIAN  PRINCESS,  ROXANA. 

Oxyartes  placing  his  arm  about  Alexander,  as  if  he 
were  a beloved  son,  led  him  to  where  Roxana  waited. 
Seeing  this  breach  of  kingly  etiquette,  Lysimachus  raised 
a doleful  cry  and  would  have  rushed  forward  to  inter- 
vene had  not  Clitus,  catching  his  bridle,  bade  him  be  still 
and  let  Alexander  choose  his  own  time  for  making  his 
identity  known. 

“Ye  Gods,  that  we  should  live  to  see  a barbarian  thus 
trespass  upon  the  sacred  person  of  our  sovereign  Prince!” 
Lysimachus  exclaimed,  scarce  able  to  speak  so  great  was 
his  agitation. 

“Peace,  old  man.  The  Persian  is  unconscious  of  of- 
fense and  so  there  is  none.” 

“What ! Not  offend  by  laying  hands  on  the  person  of 
our  exalted  Prince,  as  if  they  were  of  equal  rank  and  dig- 
nity?” 

“Oh  you  have  no  sense,  Lysimachus.  Is  Alexander  to 
be  soiled  by  the  touch,  like  a bit  of  dainty  satin?  By 
Cyclop’s  beard,  were  I King  you  should  cease  to  talk  thus 
or  I would  send  you  back  to  con  your  studies,  unfit  for 
the  companionship  of  men.” 

“But  what  would  the  King  say  if  he  saw  himself  thus 
demeaned  in  the  person  of  his  heir?” 

“He  would  laugh,  silly  pedagogue,  and  wish  the  oppor- 
tunity of  such  respite  from  the  sycophants  of  the  court 

(SO) 


The  Persian  Princess,  Roxana  87 

were  his.  Eye  of  Cyclops/’  he  v/ent  on,  observing  Alex- 
ander. ^‘How  he  blushes  at  sight  of  the  Persian’s  daugh- 
ter! Was  there  ever  another  Prince  like  him!  Why,  I 
was  a forward  youth  with  the  sex  at  ten.  But  he!  ’Tis 
twenty  to  one  he  wishes  he  had  let  the  Thebans  work 
their  will,  so  shy  is  he  of  women.” 

would  he  had,  if  this  Persian  mend  not  his  man- 
ners,” Lysimachus  answered  angrily. 

‘Tah!  He  is  most  amiable,  and  his  daughter  of  such 
loveliness,  that  if  the  Prince  but  see  enough  of  her  he 
will  have  other  thoughts  in  his  head  than  politics  and 
arms.” 

“Look,  Clitus!  The  Princess  bends  and  kisses  his 
hand  in  humble  obeisance.  That  is  more  seeming.” 

“I  would  I could  see  Alexander’s  face  flame  at  the 
touch  like  the  red  roses  of  Medius.  But  come,  let  us  not 
spy  upon  them.  Away  to  your  couch,  old  man,  while  I 
look  to  the  sentinels  and  make  provision  for  the  night,” 
and  turning  about,  he  set  off  without  further  word. 

Meanwhile,  Oxyartes,  unmindful  of  offense,  led  Alex- 
ander to  a silken  pavilion  somewhat  apart,  where  Rox- 
ana stood  awaiting  his  approach  with  impatient  interest. 

This  exalted  Princess,  so  well  known  to  students,  was 
the  most  beautiful  woman  in  all  Persia,  save  the  wife  of 
Darius,  the  great  King.  Such  is  the  account  historians 
give  us.  It  is  related  of  her  that  no  one  could  withstand 
the  beauty  of  her  face  and  form,  all  alike  yielding  to  her 
entrancing  presence.  Her  eyes,  according  to  the  mood 
that  possessed  her,  were  gentle  and  persuasive,  or,  when 
agitated,  glowed  with  the  buoyant  rapture  of  an  exuber- 
ant life.  Her  abundant  hair,  according  to  the  custom  of 


88 


Iskander 


Persian  women,  hung  in  rich  curls  about  her  graceful 
neck,  forming  a fit  setting  for  so  fair  a face.  Of  brilliant 
complexion,  her  features  were  animated  by  a lively  intel- 
ligence and  such  gentleness  and  kindly  forbearance, 
mingled  with  queenly  majesty,  that  those  who  knew  her 
worshiped  her  as  if  she  were  a goddess.  Like  all  Per- 
sians of  pure  blood,  her  face,  oval  in  form,  was  no  way 
different  in  complexion  or  features  from  the  most  exalted 
type  of  women  of  our  own  day.  Possessing  every  natural 
grace,  her  bearing  had  been  softened  and  refined  by  pro- 
longed visits  at  the  brilliant  court  of  the  Persian  monarch. 
This  frequent  intercourse  with  the  splendor  and  luxuri- 
ous elegance  of  the  refined  capital,  had  heightened  the 
grace  of  her  manner  and  the  charm  of  her  presence  with- 
out destroying  the  frank  and  conventional  freedom  of 
her  mountain  home.  Such  is  the  account  we  have  of  the 
beautiful  and  queenly  woman  who  now  watched  Alexan- 
der’s coming. 

Putting  his  arm  about  his  daughter  and  kissing  her 
with  tender  affection,  Oxyartes  exclaimed,  his  voice 
stirred  with  emotion : 

“ ’Tis  to  this  brave  Prince  we  owe  our  lives  and  all 
else  we  hold  dear.  You,  better  than  I,  sweet  child,  can 
express  the  debt  we  owe  him,”  and  placing  her  hand  in 
Alexander’s,  he  bowed  low  before  the  Prince,  and  excus- 
ing himself  on  plea  of  the  confused  affairs  of  his  camp, 
hurriedly  left  them. 

“We  owe  you  our  lives  and  all  we  hold  dear,  brave 
Prince,”  Roxana  exclaimed  in  a low  voice,  and,  raising 
Alexander’s  hand  to  her  lips,  kissed  it  as  if  only  thus 
could  she  express  the  gratitude  that  filled  her  heart. 


The  Persian  Princess,  Roxana  89 


“You  put  too  high  a value  on  the  service,  gracious 
Princess,”  Alexander  answered,  taking  her  hand  in  his 
trembling  fingers.  “War  is  our  trade,  and  we  did  only 
what  the  King  would  have  commanded  had  he  witnessed 
the  cowardly  assault.” 

“Nay;  you  were  not  thinking  of  your  duty  nor  the 
King.  It  was  a brave  and  generous  impulse,  all  your 
own.”  And  now,  looking  Alexander  in  the  face  for  the 
first  time,  she  started  back  on  beholding  in  him  the  iron- 
clad soldier  who  had  fought  his  way  to  her  side  and  beat 
down  the  burly  Theban  who  threatened  her. 

“ ’Twas  a happy  diversion  for  our  soldiers,  gracious 
Princess;  nothing  more.  For  the  result  was  never  in 
doubt  and  serving  you  by  chance  but  added  to  the  zest  of 
the  conflict.  It  is  in  such  encounters  that  the  King’s 
soldiers  derive  their  happiness  and  strength.” 

“You  shall  not  thus  disparage  the  act,  brave  Prince, 
for  the  Thebans  outnumbered  you  three  to  one,  and  save 
for  the  surprise  would  not  have  fled  without  offering 
serious  battle.” 

“Nay;  they  were  beaten  ere  we  struck  a blow,  for  men 
have  no  hardihood  in  so  base  a cause.” 

“I  watched  as  you  beat  off  those  who  sought  to  kill 
you.  But  oh,  the  weakness  of  women,  and  so  I was  pow- 
erless to  aid  in  any  way,”  she  exclaimed  with  a sigh. 

“It  was  your  face,  sweet  Princess,  that  gave  force  to 
my  arm  and  that  of  my  companions  as  the  Thebans 
sought  to  overcome  our  defense,”  Alexander  answered, 
drinking  in  the  other’s  beauty  and  coloring  at  the  famili- 
arity of  his  speech. 

“Ah,  you  have  a sweet  tongue,  brave  Prince,  as  well 


90 


Is  kand  er 


as  a strong  arm.  But  did  you  receive  no  hurt  in  the  con- 
flict?’’ 

‘‘No,  fair  Princess,  save  the  harmless  bruises  that  al- 
ways attend  such  encounters.” 

“I  thought  I saw  a Theban  lance  pierce  your  armor  as 
you  fought  below  me.  And  truly,  too.  For  see!  Blood 
stains  your  shoulder  and  breast.” 

“ ’Tis  nothing;  a mere  scratch;  something  I do  not 
feel,”  he  answered,  striving  to  divert  her  attention. 

“Nay,  I will  not  be  put  off  thus,  brave  Prince,  nor  let 
another  minister  to  the  wound.  You  owe  me  this  for 
my  debt  of  gratitude  to  you.  Oh  do  not  fear,”  she  went 
on,  calling  to  an  attendant  to  aid  her  unloose  his  armor, 
“for  I am  skilled  in  surgery  and  the  use  of  elixirs  and 
balsams.  I learned  the  art  in  my  youth  from  a Scythian 
woman,  long  a captive  at  my  father’s  court.  So  that  you 
could  not  have  a better  leech  if  you  would,”  she  hurried 
on,  giving  him  no  chance  to  say  a word  as  she  skillfully 
unfastened  his  armor.  “Do  not  crimson,  brave  Prince,  for 
it  is  not  the  first  nor,  indeed,  the  hundredth  time  I have 
performed  such  office.  For  you  must  know  that  I follow 
my  father  like  a faithful  slave,  and  he,  being  more  war- 
like than  peaceful,  I am  often  called  upon  to  dress  his 
wounds  or  those  of  his  followers.  Nay,  it  may  be  but  a 
scratch,  as  you  say,  but  you  would  make  light  of  it  none 
the  less.  That  is  the  way  with  princes,  who  like  to  be 
thought  invulnerable.  But  their  blood  is  not  more  red, 
nor  their  skin  less  tender  than  that  of  the  common  sol- 
dier.” Thus  she  went  on,  and  coming  presently  to  the 
wound  found  it  to  be  neither  deep  nor  dangerous,  but 
still  a thing  to  be  feared  if  left  uncared  for.  Calling  for 


The  Persian  Princess,  Roxana  91 

water  and  paying  no  heed  to  his  blushes  and  protestations, 
she  skillfully  cleansed  the  wound  of  the  dirt  and  coagu- 
lated blood  that  filled  the  cavity.  Then  sending  for  a 
curative  salve,  she  smeared  it  over  the  wounded  part, 
after  which,  carefully  bandaging  the  hurt,  she  released 
him,  exclaiming:  “There,  brave  Prince,  if  you  will  but 
protect  the  wound  with  some  soft  application  till  the  sec- 
ond day,  you  will  not  suffer  further  inconvenience.  And 
now  that  I have  had  my  way,  say  if  I am  not  a skillful 
leech?”  and  stepping  back,  she  eyed  him  with  half- 
modest,  half-bantering,  irresolution. 

“It  is  as  Hephestion  avers,  sweet  Princess.  For  he 
says  that  Greece  never  possessed  a leech  half  so  skillful, 
nor  one  whose  touch  would  cure  whether  the  balsam  be 
potent  or  otherwise,”  Alexander  answered,  scanning  his 
arms  as  if  to  discover  some  other  hurt.  Seeing  this  Rox- 
ana cried  out : 

“No,  there  is  no  other  wound,  though  my  fee  would 
not  be  greater  were  there  a thousand.” 

“Whatever  it  may  be  I can  never  pay  it,  nor  would  I 
wish  to.  But  tell  me  what  it  is  that  I may  keep  account 
of  it  in  my  heart.” 

“Nay,  ’tis  not  hard.  For  I ask  naught  save  the  friend- 
ship of  those  I serve.  Do  you  own  the  debt?  If  not, 
speak  quickly,  ere  I become  still  more  exacting.” 

“ ’Tis  no  payment  at  all,  for  I acknowledged  the  debt 
ere  you  touched  my  wounded  shoulder.  But  ’twould  add 
to  the  favor  if  you  would  promise  me  your  friendship  in 
return,”  he  answered,  taking  her  hand  and  kissing  it,  so 
great  was  his  admiration  for  the  beautiful  and  kindly 
woman. 


92 


Iskander 


‘*My  heart  went  out  to  you  in  friendship  when  first  I 
saw  you  and  neither  knew  nor  cared  who  you  were.  Now 
that  we  are  friends  you  will  be  frank  with  me,  will  you 
not,  for  that  is  the  first  requisite,  you  know?” 

‘'Yes,  in  all  things,”  Alexander  answered,  enchanted 
with  her  speech  and  manner. 

“Then  tell  me  if  all  the  princes  in  Macedonia  are  like 
you?”  she  asked  with  mischievous  abruptness. 

“I  am  the  least  among  them,  gracious  Princess,  in  ac- 
complishments as  in  years,”  he  answered,  surprised  at  the 
question. 

“Then  the  great  King  does  well  to  send  my  father 
hither,”  she  answered,  pondering  on  what  he  said. 

“I  fear  for  any  resolutions  the  King  may  have  made, 
once  he  falls  within  the  spell  of  your  persuasive  presence,” 
Alexander  replied,  gazing  into  the  face  of  his  companion 
with  rapt  admiration. 

“I  come  not  upon  any  errand  save  to  attend  upon  my 
father,  oh  Prince.  But  I fear  much  for  my  own  alle- 
giance to  the  great  King  if  all  your  courtiers  pay  me 
such  sweet  compliments,”  she  answered,  coloring  at  Alex- 
ander’s rapt  gaze  and  earnest  speech. 

“Beauty  and  kindliness,  sweet  Princess,  loosen  the  dull- 
est tongue.  Our  courtiers  are  little  used  to  the  graces  of 
the  Persian  court,  and  so  you  must  pardon  them  in  me, 
if  their  speech  be  too  bold  or  their  admiration  too  little 
concealed,”  he  answered,  losing  all  fear  of  her. 

“I  have  heard  much  of  your  peo])le  but  knew  not  that 
their  courtiers  shamed  those  of  Susa  in  chivalrous  cour- 
age and  courtesy  of  speech.  But  tell  me,  gracious  Prince, 


The  Persian  Princess,  Roxana  93 

something  about  your  country.  Is  the  King,  too,  a gal- 
lant?” 

“His  respect  and  admiration  for  woman  is  so  great, 
sweet  Princess,  that  it  outstrips  in  ardor  the  severe  cus- 
toms of  southern  Greece.  But  if  this  be  true,  his  mind 
and  glorious  deeds  excuse  the  fault.  The  weakness,  if  so 
it  be,  is  allied  to  such  greatness  that  it  finds  pardon  and 
excuse  therein.” 

“You  sound  his  praise  most  nobly.  And  Alexander! 
Is  he  like  his  father  ?” 

“Alexander  up  to  this  hour  has  never  seen  woman  for 
whom  he  cared.  Of  this  I could  swear.” 

“That  is  strange,  and  is  it  true  that  he  loves  poetry  and 
the  Grecian  dialogues,  and  at  sixteen  was  regent,  and  so 
subdued  the  fierce  Thracians  ?” 

“Yes,  he  was  regent  and  marched  his  army  into  Thrace, 
as  you  say,”  Alexander  answered,  coloring. 

“I  am  told  he  is  fair  of  face  and  of  noble  bearing.  But 
of  this  I shall  see  for  myself,”  she  went  on,  as  if  speaking 
to  herself. 

“He  will  be  glad  to  be  judged  by  one  so  just.” 

“That  we  shall  see.  But  how  happy  the  fortune,  brave 
Prince,  that  threw  us  across  your  path.  For  you  will  act 
as  our  friend  at  Pella,  will  you  not,  so  that  we  may  do  no 
rude  or  unseemly  thing?” 

“I  shall  strive  to  be  near  you,  gracious  Princess,  and  if 
I can  lessen  your  perplexities,  I shall  be  happy  in  the 
labor.” 

“I  was  sure  you  would  be  no  less  kind.  But  does  it  not 
seem  to  you,  my  friend,  as  if  we  had  known  each  other 
always?  So  it  appears  to  me.  We  will  be  such  trustful 


94 


Iskander 


friends,  too,  will  we  not?  And  that  you  may  be  remem- 
bered and  honored  by  my  people  for  the  debt  we  owe 
you,  tell  me  your  name,  brave  Prince.” 

“I  would  not  have  you  know  it  lest  your  kind  interest 
grow  cold  with  the  hearing,”  Alexander  answered  reluct- 
antly, seeing  in  such  disclosure  an  end  to  all  their  uncon- 
strained freedom. 

“Nay,  that  cannot  be.  One  name  is  not  different  from 
another  where  friendship  binds,”  she  replied  in  some  con- 
fusion. 

“Then,  if  you  will  not  think  the  less  kindly  of  me,  I 
will  do  as  you  request,”  he  answered  in  a low  voice.  But 
as  he  spoke  his  name  the  blare  of  trumpets  and  the  neigh- 
ing of  Clitus’  horses,  as  he  busied  himself  placing  a guard 
about  the  Persian  camp,  drowned  his  voice  so  that  she 
heard  but  imperfectly,  and  so  responded : 

“ISKANDER!  It  is  like  all  your  Greek  names,  only 
softer  and  as  if  full  of  romance.  Iskander,  Iskander,”  she 
added,  dwelling  on  the  name  as  if  she  found  pleasure  in 
repeating  it.* 

At  last,  the  evening  waning,  she  took  Alexander’s 
hand,  exclaiming : 

“Come,  let  us  rejoin  my  father.”  Wrapping  her  veil 
about  her  head,  she  cried : “I  think  your  eyes  show  some 
spark  of  wonder  that  I,  a Persian,  should  so  far  overstep 
the  customs  of  my  country  as  to  appear  abroad  unveiled 
like  tb.e  women  of  your  own  land.  Say,  if  I am  not 
right?” 

*Thus  through  Alexander’s  reluctance  to  set  her  right,  it  came 
about  that  he  became  known  to  Roxana  as  Iskander;  and  so  to  all 
Persia ; for  even  to  our  day,  it  is  as  Iskander,  or  Iskender,  that  he 
is  remembered  in  the  legends  and  traditions  of  Asia  and  India. 


The  Persian  Princess,  Roxana  95 

“I  have  heard  of  such  a custom  at  your  court,  but  have 
always  thought  it  would  be  an  act  of  grace  to  disregard 
it.  Now,  more  than  ever,  I am  assured  of  its  impropriety, 
sweet  Princess,”  he  replied,  retaining  her  hand. 

“The  custom  may  never  be  disregarded  by  women 
about  the  court,  but  I come  from  a far-off  country  where 
v/omen  are  granted  greater  freedom  than  at  Susa  and 
Ecbatana.  And  so  it  is  that  I am  able  to  accompany  my 
father  untrammeled,  and  meet  my  brave  preserver  face 
to  face,”  she  went  on  with  ingenuous  frankness. 

“I  shall  love  your  country  for  being  able  to  be  near  its 
fair  Princess  thus  unconstrained,”  Alexander  replied,  his 
face  aglow  with  admiration. 

“And  I shall  be  not  less  grateful  for  the  assurance  of 
having  you  near  me  in  our  journey  through  this  disturbed 
country.  For  I shall  fear  every  clump  of  trees,  after  the 
dangers  of  today,  unless,  indeed,  you  are  close  beside 
me,”  and  blushing  at  her  freedom  of  speech,  she  led  him 
to  the  pavilion  of  her  father,  where  a sumptuous  banquet 
awaited  their  coming. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 


THE  PERSIANS. 

“How  I love  the  weak  stuf¥,  Lysimachus,  after  a night 
spent  in  emptying  the  wine  skins,”  Clitus  exclaimed  the 
next  morning  as  he  filled  and  emptied  his  leather  cup  for 
the  third  time  from  the  mountain  stream. 

“Water!  Bah,  I crave  it  not  then  nor  at  any  time,” 
Lysimachus  answered  scornfully. 

“Your  nose  proclaims  the  aversion,  Lysimachus,  for  it 
has  the  tint  of  indulgence  fed  to  foolishness.  Fie  on  you.' 
For  ’tis  such  as  you  that  incite  the  Greeks  to  call  us  bar- 
barians,” Ptolemy  exclaimed,  as  he  sat  watching  his  slave 
slowly  turn  a fat  hedgehog  before  the  blazing  camp  fire. 

“ ’Tis  not  I who  give  rise  to  the  base  slander,  for  no 
one  ever  saw  me  drunk,”  Lysimachus  answered  proudly. 

“No ! You  are  like  a Cretan  reed,  having  length  but  no 
girth  or  substance  upon  which  the  wine  may  feed,”  Clitus 
answered,  yawning  wearily. 

“But  if  over-indulgence  cause  the  Greeks  to  condemn 
us,  what  do  they  say  to  the  sleek  Persians?”  Lysimachus 
asked,  scanning  his  lean  body. 

“Nothing.  For  no  one  ever  saw  a Persian  drunk.” 

“But  ’tis  not  that  they  drink  less  than  the  Macedoni- 
ans,” Ptolemy  interposed,  pricking  the  hedgehog  with  the 
point  of  his  sword. 

“No!  But  they  sip  their  wine  daintily,  the  oily,  well- 

(00) 


The  Persians 


97 


fed  men,  while  we  drain  the  goblet  at  a draught,”  Clitus 
exclaimed,  resting  his  head  wearily  on  his  hand. 

“Yes,  and  so  it  was  that  when  our  brawny  comrades 
left  the  banquet  last  night,  scarce  able  to  keep  their  feet, 
the  Persians  were  smiling  and  sipping  their  wine  as  if  the 
feast  were  just  begun,”  Ptolemy  exclaimed,  eyeing  the 
patient  slave.  “Nay,”  he  cried,  springing  to  his  feet,  “be 
not  so  slow  with  turning  your  spit,  knave.  The  fat  drops 
in  the  fire  as  if  it  were  a thing  to  waste.” 

“But  you  remained,  Clitus,  when  the  others  left,”  Lysi- 
machus  exclaimed  enviously.  “I  hope  you  came  off 
without  disgracing  us  before  the  Persian  wine  pots.” 

“As  to  that  I could  not  swear,  Lysimachus,  having  no 
remembrance  of  the  time  or  manner  of  my  leaving,”  he 
answered,  emptying  his  cup  anew. 

“You  had  done  better  to  come  with  us,  for  ’tis  a sigfn  of 
weakness  when  a guest  knows  not  how  he  reached  his 
bed,”  Lysimachus  answered  with  glee. 

“I  stayed  out  of  politeness,  for  our  master  had  eyes 
and  ears  for  no  one  save  the  fair  maid,”  Clitus  went  on, 
throwing  himself  on  the  ground  and  burying  his  face  in 
the  cool  stream. 

“For  which  you  should  be  rewarded  by  the  King,” 
Ptolemy  cried  in  derision  as  he  departed  with  the  savory 
hedgehog. 

“What  think  you  of  these  Persian  grandees,  Clitus?” 
Lysimachus  asked  critically,  after  some  pause. 

“I  could  find  no  fault  with  Oxyartes  or  Artabazus,  but 
of  Mithrines  and  Bessus,  the  first  drank  not  at  all  and  the 
other  only  lightly.” 

“I  noticed  it  not.” 


98 


Iskander 


“No,  being  intent  on  your  own  goblet.  Mithrines, 
with  the  white  face  and  cunning  eyes,  touched  not  the 
wine,  but  watched  Roxana  and  the  Prince  with  such  a 
devilish  leer  that  I came  nigh  to  smashing  my  sword 
across  the  fox’s  face  more  than  once,”  Clitus  answered 
with  a scowl. 

“I  had  some  converse  with  him  ere  the  banquet  began. 
He  talked  most  learnedly  of  Greek  literature,  interspers- 
ing his  conversation  with  many  questions  concerning  the 
King  and  his  court,”  Lysimachus  answered  grandly. 

“Which  you  would  have  done  well  not  to  have  an- 
swered.” 

“Nay,  I paid  little  attention  to  what  he  said.  But  of 
Bessus?  What  was  he  like?  For  I remember  him  not  at 
all.” 

“He  was  but  an  echo  of  Mithrines,  only  making  great 
pretense  of  drinking  while  slyly  spilling  his  wine  behind 
the  couch.  Bah!  I would  not  trust  one  more  than  the 
other.” 

“ ’Twas  a shameful  waste  of  the  Gods’  bounty,  Clitus, 
and  Bessus  is  more  to  be  despised  than  the  other,”  Lysi- 
machus replied,  as  if  nothing  could  excuse  so  heinous  a 
fault. 

“They  scarce  took  their  wicked  eyes  off  the  Prince  the 
whole  evening,  whispering  apart,  and  ever  and  anon  call- 
ing an  attendant  to  go  upon  some  errand  which  I could 
not  but  believe  concerned  our  master,”  Clitus  exclaimed 
with  a discontented  air. 

“Can  they  have  penetrated  his  identity,  think  you  ?” 

“Yes,  but  feign  ignorance,  hoping  to  take  advantage 


The  Persians 


99 


of  his  supposed  rank.  Bah ! I would  the  two  of  them 
stood  before  me  with  swords  in  their  hands.” 

“That  can  never  be,  for  their  mission  protects  them  in- 
violate,” Lysimachus  answered  with  a learned  air. 

“ ’Tis  that  enrages  me,  for  they  come  meaning  no  good 
to  any  Macedonian.  Surely  the  King’s  honor  is  not  etr- 
gaged  in  shielding  such  knaves?” 

“Yes,  unless  they  do  some  unfriendly  thing.  But  did 
not  the  Prince  remark  their  ill-will?” 

“No;  he  saw  only  the  Princess  and  scarce  spoke  to  any 
other.  Fie!  His  bashfulness  is  all  a pretext,  for  more 
forward  Prince  never  faced  a blushing  maiden.  He  loves 
her  already,  Lysimachus,  if  eyes  be  any  index  to  the 
heart.” 

“Nay ; ’tis  only  a distemper,  Clitus,  and  will  pass  away 
with  the  night.” 

“ ’Tis  a distemper  that  comes  to  every  man  once  in  his 
life,  and  often  to  his  undoing.  And  Roxana,  the  sly  puss, 
led  him  on  betwixt  blushes  and  laughter,  as  if  she  had 
never  listened  to  speech  of  gallant  before.  Ah,  beard  of 
Cyclops,  what  will  the  King  say?” 

“He  will  laugh,  for  Alexander’s  passion,  like  his  own, 
will  vanish  with  sight  of  the  first  pretty  face,”  Lysima- 
chus answered  confidently. 

“No!  For  the  Prince  is  not  like  the  King  more  than 
the  day  is  like  the  night.  There  is  no  idle  dalliance  in 
him,  and  should  he  have  a passion  he  will  be  steadfast  in 
it  as  in  other  things.” 

“I  like  not  what  you  say,  Clitus,  and  will  go  straight- 
way and  warn  Oxyartes,”  Lysimachus  answered,  starting 
up. 


100 


Iskander 


‘‘If  you  do,  old  man,  never  hop^fo  look  upon  the 
Prince's  face  again.  For  if  he  does  im  kill  you  he  will 
banish  you  from  his  presence  though  you  had  been  a 
thousand  times  his  teacher.  'Tis  no  business  of  yours  or 
mine.  And  for  the  matter  of  that,  the  Princess  is  worthy 
of  any  man  even  were  he  King.  I like  the  sweet  woman 
much  for  her  pleasant  speech.  She  told  me,  Lysimachus, 
there  was  not  a man  in  all  Persia  who  could  wield  so 
strong  a sword  as  I,"  Clitus  answered  demurely,  scanning 
his  stalwart  frame. 

“My  master  will  thank  me  later  for  the  service,  even 
if  he  be  angry  now.  It  would  be  different,  Clitus,  were 
she  the  Princess  of  another  country.  But  a Persian, 
bah !"  and  the  old  man  rose  to  his  feet  shaking  as  with  a 
chill. 

“If  the  Prince  has  a passion  for  her  and  you  do  aught 
to  balk  it  he  will  hold  you  in  scorn  all  his  life.  For  if  he 
loves  her  he  will  put  her  above  all  the  world.  Neither 
state,  nor  his  ambition,  nor  Philip's  wrath  will  stay  him 
more  than  the  idle  wind.  What,  fool!  Have  you  been 
all  these  years  near  him  and  not  know  him  better!  You 
may  easier  bend  this  triple  helmet  than  loose  his  fixed 
will.  Begone!  Wash  your  face,  old  man,  and  hasten 
to  attend  him,"  Clitus  cried,  rising  to  his  feet  and  hurry- 
ing away  to  arrange  for  the  day's  march. 

Alexander,  impatient  of  his  couch,  arose  ere  the  voice 
of  the  whip-poor-will  had  ceased  its  call  from  out  the 
grove  of  olive  trees  near  which  his  tent  was  pitched. 
Going  at  once  to  visit  the  wounded,  he  found  them  re- 
freshed and  cheered  by  the  night's  rest  and  eager  to  re- 
sume their  homeward  journey.  Sending  Demetrius,  his 


The  Persians 


101 


chief  page,  to  ask  the  pleasure  of  Oxyartes,  the  Persian 
grandee  returned  immediate  answer  that  they  were  ready 
and  anxious  to  go  forward.  Upon  this  the  Prince  gave 
orders  for  breaking  camp,  and  everything  being  presently 
arranged,  they  set  off  amidst  the  blare  of  bugles  and  the 
loud  cries  and  discordant  music  of  the  “Hungry  Horde.” 


CHAPTER  IX. 


THE  WILD  BOAR  HUNT. 

With  the  new  day  Alexander  was  as  one  transformed, 
all  his  former  longings  being  forgotten  in  his  passion  for 
the  Princess  Roxana.  Sleeping,  her  voice  had  sounded  in 
his  ears,  as  her  face  had  filled  the  measure  of  his  disturbed 
dreams.  She,  he  likened,  in  his  thoughts,  not  to  any  other 
woman  but  to  some  Eastern  houri,  told  of  by  curious 
travelers,  who  forever  cast  a spell  over  the  hearts  and 
minds  of  those  they  look  upon.  Nor  was  this  strange, 
for  until  now  he  had  thought  only  of  the  chase,  the  mas- 
tery of  arms,  the  wars,  and  his  great  ambition.  His 
pleasure  and  recreation  he  had  found  in  hunting  and  the 
rugged  pastimes  that  fit  men  for  war.  But  as  the  matur- 
ing stalk  carries  within  its  uplifted  stem  the  coming 
flower,  so  his  heart  only  awaited  the  propitious  moment  to 
respond  with  fervent  ardor  to  love’s  enchanting  dream. 
At  last,  thinking  not  at  all  of  such  things,  he  saw  Roxana, 
and  his  heart,  before  untouched,  was  all  aflame  with  the 
fire  of  his  love.  Not,  indeed,  as  men  who  have  played 
with  such  things,  but  with  a burning  passion  before  un- 
known. To  him  the  obstacles  of  rank,  the  wishes  of  the 
King,  the  claims  of  Macedonia,  were  as  naught.  Was 
he  not  Alexander  and  so  free  to  choose  as  his  father  had 
done  before  him!  And  so  his  passion,  like  the  impulse 
that  was  to  carry  his  conqiiering  armies  far  beyond  the 
limits  of  the  ancient  world,  needed  no  schooling,  but 

(102) 


The  Wild  Boar  Hunt 


103 


leaped  at  once  to  its  fixed  conclusion.  He  saw  and  loved 
and  as  the  rays  of  the  morning  sun  lit  up  the  mountain 
heights  about  him  he  swore  by  all  the  Gods  that  none 
other  than  Roxana  should  be  his  wife. 

In  this  mood  he  sought  her  out,  and  she,  smiling  upon 
him,  as  he  reined  his  steed  beside  her  own,  could  not  for- 
bear to  chide  him  for  his  tardiness. 

“You  are  late  in  coming,  brave  Prince,  to  receive  my 
thanks  anew  for  your  great  service  to  us  hapless  stran- 
gers. I feared  some  new  adventure  had  snatched  you 
from  us  and  I should  see  you  no  more.” 

“Nay,  I did  but  linger,  sweet  Princess,  that  I might  be 
the  longer  near  you  once  I was  free.  For  those  who  con- 
voy such  precious  freight  must  needs  look  well  to  its 
safety,”  he  answered,  his  heightened  color  showing  the 
pleasure  he  felt  in  being  near  her. 

“I  see  that  sleep  has  not  dulled  your  gallantry  nor 
stilled  your  sweet  speech,”  she  answered,  beaming  upon 
him. 

“Not  more,  with  such  impulse,  than  the  mountain  tor- 
rent is  lessened  by  the  steep  incline  it  traverses.  The  dull- 
est animal  is  brightened  by  the  cheerful  day,  and  so  I find 
reflection  of  courtesy  and  wit  in  your  sweet  presence.” 

“For  shame,  oh  Prince ! Or  if  you  will  persist  in  say- 
ing such  sweet  things  I must  needs  seek  safety  on  my 
faithful  dromedary,”  she  cried,  slowing  her  horse. 

“Nay!  Rather  than  that  I will  not  speak  at  all.  Or,  if 
I do,  only  of  such  things  as  you  may  choose  to  have  me,” 
he  answered,  lowering  his  head  as  if  in  acquiescence. 

“Your  amiability  excuses  your  fault,  oh  Prince.  Be- 


104 


Iskander 


sides,  I must  needs  make  some  allowance  for  the  fervent 
gallantry  of  so  accomplished  a courtier.” 

“Nay,  sweet  Princess,  do  not  ascribe  my  speech  to 
aught  save  the  impulse  that  calls  it  forth,  for  of  courtiers 
or  their  arts  I know  not  a thing.” 

“If  that  be  true  you  would  be  an  apt  scholar  once  your 
mind  inclined  that  way.  But  I must  still  doubt,  oh 
Prince,  till  I can  put  your  sincerity  to  some  test,”  she 
answered,  admiring  Alexander’s  spirited  steed. 

“I  would  you  might,  for  I have  but  one  wish,  and  that 
to  please  you.” 

“Be  not  too  sure,  for  it  might  be  some  absurd  thing; 
perhaps  a woman’s  whim.” 

“The  whims  of  women,  if  there  be  such  things,  but 
prove  the  devotion  of  men,”  he  answered  with  fervent 
admiration. 

“You  protest  too  much,  oh  Prince.  But  still  I would 
try  you,  and  not  with  any  difficult  thing,”  she  answered, 
casting  her  eyes  anew  and  with  fervent  longing  on  Alex- 
ander’s horse. 

“What  would  you,  sweet  Princess?  No  pliant  slave, 
bending  to  the  will  of  an  exacting  master,  could  respond 
more  willingly  than  I.” 

“ ’Tis  a slight  thing  and  a woman’s  whim.  Say  if  I 
speak  not  true,  for  I would  exchange  my  horse  for  yours. 
Nay;  do  not  frown,  for  I will  not  harm  the  beast.  ’Tis 
only  a fancy  to  try  his  metal.  For  of  all  the  gallant  steeds 
I have  seen  since  quitting  Persia  he  only  is  worthy  of 
comparison  with  the  Median  barbs,”  she  continued  with 
eagerness,  scanning  Bucephalus’  sinewy  strength  and 
supple  limbs. 


The  Wild  Boar  Hunt 


105 


“Ask  aught  but  that,  for  no  one  save  myself  can  man- 
age him,  and  I only  by  some  trick,  I know  not  what,”  he 
answered,  greatly  disturbed  at  her  request. 

“ ’Tis  as  I said,  oh  Prince,”  she  cried  maliciously. 
“Your  sweet  speech  but  covers  empty  compliments.  I 
crave  a simple  thing,  and  lo,  clouds  darken  your  face,  be- 
fore so  amiable.  Say  that  you  fear  I will  do  him  harm, 
or  that  you  have  made  some  vow  that  woman  shall  never 
mount  his  glossy  back.  Ah!  I have  guessed  aright,” 
and  she  frowned  as  if  displeased  at  his  refusal. 

“I  have,  indeed,  made  a vow  that  no  man  shall  ride 
him  save  myself,”  he  answered,  perplexed.  “To  you  I 
would  gladly  yield  if  I dare,  but  he  knows  no  hand  but 
mine,  and  his  fierce  temper  is  so  unbridled  that  no  one 
can  manage  him  except  he  wills  it.” 

“Do  you  think  so  lightly  of  my  skill,  oh  Prince?  I 
thought  you  more  gallant.  If  you  fear  for  my  safety  you 
shall  keep  me  company,  for  my  Nysaean  horse  will  easily 
keep  pace  with  yours,”  she  answered,  smiling  upon  him 
as  if  he  had  already  relented. 

“Do  not  urge  me,  for  I would  gladly  do  as  you  ask,  but 
dare  not,”  he  answered,  scarce  above  his  breath,  so 
greatly  was  he  disturbed. 

“Then  never  speak  kindly  to  me  more,  for  I will  not 
believe  you,”  she  answered,  checking  her  horse  as  if  to 
leave  him. 

“Nay,  rather  than  that  you  shall  have  your  way,” 
Alexander  at  last  reluctantly  answered. 

“Now  you  are  again  my  gentle  and  chivalrous  Prince. 
But  quick,  let  us  do  the  thing  ere  you  change  your  mind,” 
and,  slipping  to  the  ground,  she  prepared  to  mount  the 


106 


Iskander 


Prince’s  gallant  steed.  Seeing  this  her  father  hurried  to 
her  side  to  inquire  the  reason  for  her  dismounting. 

“The  gracious  Prince  consents  at  last  to  exchange  his 
steed  for  mine,  but  loth  he  was  at  first  to  accede  to  my 
request.” 

“It  is  because  my  horse  has  never  been  ridden  except  by 
myself  and  is  thought  to  be  unmanageable  in  other 
hands,”  Alexander  ansv>^ered,  turning  to  Oxyartes. 

“You  need  not  fear,  gentle  Prince,  for  there  is  not  a 
horse  in  all  the  world  Roxana  cannot  ride,”  Oxyartes 
cried  with  firm  assurance.  “She  has  so  gentle  a voice  and 
fine  a hand  that  your  steed,  however  high  his  temper, 
will  readily  respond  to  her  will  once  she  is  on  his  back.” 

Thus  it  was  determined  and  the  trappings  of  Bucepha- 
lus being  changed,  Roxana  was  lifted  to  his  back.  Re- 
sponding to  Alexander’s  voice  and  the  caress  of  his  hand, 
the  noble  steed  stood  still,  nor  gave  hint  of  fear  or  tem- 
per of  any  kind.  And  never  before,  if  Alexander’s  eyes 
spoke  true,  had  horse  borne  more  lovely  burden. 
Supple  of  figure,  Roxana  seemed  to  be  a part  of  the  noble 
steed.  About  her  graceful  form  there  clung  a loose 
Median  robe  of  purple  cloth,  fastened  by  a belt  encrusted 
with  turquoise  set  in  gold.  Her  delicate  feet  were  en- 
cased in  boots  of  pliant  leather,  half  hidden  by  the  silken 
garment  of  Persian  pattern  that  reached  to  her  jeweled 
ankles.  Upon  her  head,  as  was  the  fashion  of  her  coun- 
try, she  wore  a silken  turban  of  brilliant  hue,  adorned 
with  precious  stones.  Nor  was  the  costume  of  Alexander 
less  inviting,  for  he,  no  longer  thinking  of  the  Tagus  or 
the  heroes  of  other  days,  had  exchanged  his  armor  for 
the  soft  garments  of  the  cavalier.  A rich  Sicilian  coat  of 


The  Wild  Boar  Hunt 


107 


crimson  cloth,  girt  about  the  waist  with  a belt  studded 
with  emeralds,  now  adorned  his  person,  and  from  this  a 
golden  scabbard  hung*,  encrusted  with  jewels,  as  was  the 
hilt  of  his  long  and  pliant  sword.  His  lower  limbs  were 
encased  in  a closely  fitting  garment  of  white  cloth,  over 
which  deerskin  boots  laced  in  front  reached  nearly  to  the 
knees.  His  head  was  adorned  with  the  Kausia,  the  kingly 
hat  of  Macedonia,  surmounted  by  snow-white  plumes  of 
ostrich  feathers.  Gauntlets  of  doeskin,  embroidered  with 
silk,  covered  his  hands,  while  a short  cloak  of  Tyrian  pur- 
ple fell  loosely  from  his  shoulders. 

Thus  they  appeared,  as  Alexander,  reassured,  let  go 
Bucephalus’  bridle  and  sprang  upon  the  horse  Roxana 
had  abandoned.  At  this  the  great  steed,  released  from 
the  spell  of  his  master’s  hand,  uttered  a fearful  cry,  and, 
raising  himself,  plunged  forward,  shaking  his  head  and 
beating  the  air  with  his  forefeet  in  frenzied  rage.  Rox- 
ana, clinging  to  his  back  and  giving  him  free  rein, 
caressed  him  the  while  with  voice  and  hand.  Hastening 
to  her  side,  Alexander  sought  to  still  the  enraged  animal, 
and  hearing  his  voice  the  noble  steed  dropped  to  the 
ground  as  if  ashamed.  But  not  in  quietude,  for,  taking 
the  bit  between  his  teeth,  he  sprang  forward  into  the  air 
as  an  arrow  flies  from  the  taut  bow.  At  this  Roxana,  as 
if  relieved  of  all  her  fears,  turned  and  smiled  on  Alexan- 
der, beckoning  him  to  follow.  Thus  she  sped  on  with 
slackened  rein,  amid  the  frightened  cries  of  her  attendants 
and  the  wonder  of  Alexander’s  soldiers,  who  knew  not 
what  to  make  of  the  strange  adventure.  Drawing  to  one 
side,  they  made  a path,  and  thus  the  marching  column 
was  quickly  cleared  and  the  open  plain  spread  out  before 


108 


Iskander 


her.  Gaining  in  speed  with  each  mighty  stride,  the  noble 
animal  flew  onward,  his  head  outstretched  and  his  neck 
and  breast  flecked  with  foam.  Urging  his  horse  to  the 
utmost  speed  Alexander  sought  in  vain  to  overtake  her. 
Snatching  a spear  from  a waiting  soldier  as  he  passed  he 
thought  to  kill  the  flying  horse  if  in  that  way  he  might 
rescue  Roxana  from  the  danger  that  threatened  her.  Los- 
ing rather  than  gaining  in  the  mad  race,  he  sought  at  last 
only  to  keep  the  Princess  in  view.  She,  looking  back, 
waved  her  veil  as  if  to  assure  him  that  she  had  no  fear. 
Thus  she  flew  forward  until  at  last,  approaching  a brawl- 
ing stream,  she  sought  not  to  restrain  the  flying  steed, 
but,  giving  him  free  rein,  urged  him  to  his  utmost  speed. 
Coming  at  last  tO'  the  brink,  the  noble  animal  gathering 
himself,  shot  into  the  air  and,  clearing  the  wide  space, 
landed  unharmed  on  the  further  shore.  Trembling  and 
hesitating,  as  if  in  doubt  whether  to  continue  the  flight 
or  yield,  at  last,  responding  to  Roxana’s  gentle  caress, 
he  dropped  his  proud  head  in  token  of  obedience.  Thus 
Alexander  found  her,  tranquilly  awaiting  his  approach. 

“Oh  queen  of  women,  in  skill  and  courage,  as  in  grace 
and  beauty!  You  have  subdued  the  horse  as  you  had 
already  overcome  the  master,”  he  cried  with  joyful  voice. 

“The  horse  was  the  more  difficult,  fair  Prince,  if  your 
speech  be  not  in  mere  compliment,”  she  answered,  caress- 
ing the  noble  animal.  “See  how  playfully  he  throws  his 
head,  as  if  in  response  to  the  music  of  a pipe.” 

“ ’Tis  sweeter  music  than  pipe  or  horn  that  calms  him,” 
he  answered  soberly.  “He  is  yours,  fair  Princess,  for 
you  are  more  worthy  to  possess  him  than  I.” 


The  Wild  Boar  Hunt 


109 


“No;  I will  not  rob  you  of  so  priceless  a treasure,  gen- 
erous Prince,  for  all  Persia  does  not  hold  one  like  him.” 

“He,  too',  is  of  Persian  breed,  ’tis  thought,  having  been 
brought  to  Pella  from  the  Isle  of  Rhodes,”  he  answered, 
gazing  on  the  animal  with  rapt  pleasure.* 

“He  is  worth  the  ransom  of  a province,  come  from 
what  country  he  may.” 

“Yes,  but  still  not  worthy  of  her  who  has  thus  con- 
quered him  anew,”  he  answered  with  gentle  voice. 

“Do  not  venture  too  far,  oh  Prince,  lest  I rob  you  of 
your  steed,”  she  cried,  enra^  ured.  “But,  come,  let  us  re- 
trace our  steps,  for  we  have  gone  far  out  of  the  beaten 
path  and  my  father  will  be  anxious  for  my  safety,”  and, 
gathering  up  her  reins,  they  descended  to  the  bed  of  the 
stream,  where  they  halted  to  refresh  their  worn  horses. 
While  thus  engaged  an  angry  roar,  followed  by  the  sway- 
ing of  the  bushes^ that  bordered  the  shallow  stream, 
warned  them  that  some  savq.ge  animal  was  moving 
swiftly  in  their  direction. 

“Quick,  Roxana ! ’Tis  a wild  boar,  having  his  lair  in 
the  secluded  dell,”  and,  urging  their  horses  forward,  they 
cleared  the  stream  as  the  front  and  bristling  mane  of  a 
gigantic  boar  showed  from  the  underbrush  some  yards 
away.  Reaching  the  open  ground,  they  looked  back,  but 

^History  recounts  that  King  Philip  gave  thirteen  talents, 
or  $15,000  in  gold  for  Bucephalus.  But  no  one  being  able  to  ride 
him,  Alexander,  then  twelve  years  of  age,  craved  permission  to 
mount  him  and  doing  so  conquered  the  noble  animal.  Upon  which 
Philip,  embracing  his  son  with  joy,  made  him  a present  of  the  gal- 
lant steed.  Alexander  afterwards  rode  this  horse  at  Cheronea  and 
in  every  one  of  his  great  battles  until,  the  noble  animal  dying  of  old 
age  in  India,  he  named  a city  in  his  honor. 


110 


Iskander 


the  noble  animal,  content  with  having  driven  them  from 
his  secluded  lair,  made  no  attempt  to  follow. 

“ ’Tis  as  I thought,”  Alexander  cried,  springing  to  the 
ground  and  giving  his  reins  to  Roxana  to  hold.  “Stay 
here,  fair  Princess,  while  I secure  the  noble  animal  to 
garnish  our  evening  meal.” 

“Nay,  brave  Prince,  you  would  not  attack  him  alone, 
armed  only  with  spear  and  sword?  A misstep  and  your 
life  would  pay  the  forfeit,”  she  cried  in  fright. 

“ ’Tis  with  spear  and  knife  that  we  hunt  the  animal, 
sweet  Princess,  and  my  companions  would  hold  me  in 
slight  respect  if  I ran  away  when  armed  as  I am.” 

“But  await  their  coming,  brave  Prince,  for  they  must 
reach  us  ere  many  minutes.” 

“Nay;  that  would  be  to  share  the  glory  of  the  encoun- 
ter,” he  answered  smiling.  “Fear  not,  but  await  me  here, 
or  seek  greater  safety  in  the  plain.”  And  whipping  his 
spear  to  test  its  strength,  and  loosening  his  sword  as  he 
ran,  he  disappeared  in  the  depths  of  the  undergrowth 
from  which  they  had  just  emerged.  Reaching  an  open 
glade,  he  espied  the  boar  fiercely  regarding  him  from  its 
edge,  but  a few  steps  away.  Lowering  the  point  of  his 
lance  he  patiently  awaited  the  savage  onslaught,  which 
he  knew  must  quickly  come.  Nor  was  it  long  delayed,  for 
the  huge  animal,  champing  his  cruel  tusks,  losing  no  time, 
rushed  forward  with  a cry  of  rage.  Alexander,  standing 
firmly  on  his  feet,  as  the  huge  animal  came  up,  received 
the  brute  on  the  point  of  his  spear,  burying  the  metal  to 
the  head  in  its  quivering  flesh.  At  this,  the  fierce  animal 
swerving  to  one  side,  the  shaft  broke  off,  leaving  only  the 
handle  in  the  Prince’s  hand.  Raising  this  as  the  brute 


The  Wild  Boar  Hunt 


111 


turned  swiftly  upon  him,  he  struck  it  across  the  face  as 
he  sprang  to  one  side.  But  not  in  time  to  escape  the  sharp 
tusk  of  the  enraged  brute,  as  his  torn  sleeve  and  bloody 
arm  too  clearly  showed.  Springing  back,  Alexander  drew 
his  sword  as  the  savage  animal,  gathering  himself,  came 
on  anew  with  eyes  of  fire,  his  huge  protruding  tusks 
lashed  with  foam.  But  not  now  with  such  swift  onslaught 
as  before.  Sorely  hurt,  it  yet  had  strength  to  charge,  and, 
coming  forward  with  bent  head,  again  sought  to  impale 
its  foe  on  its  curving  tusks.  But  leaping  to  one  side,  Alex- 
ander, watching  his  chance,  buried  half  his  sword’s  length 
in  the  brute’s  shaggy  side.  Disengaging  his  weapon,  the 
blood  of  the  stricken  animal  gushed  forth  in  torrents, 
coloring  the  greensward  a crimson  red.  Stricken  with 
death,  the  savage  animal  would  not  yield  or  fly,  but  turn- 
ing, faced  him  anew  with  bloodshot  eyes,  its  feet  spread 
wide  apart  to  steady  itself  for  a new  attack.  But  vain  its 
courage,  for  while  it  sought  to  gather  itself,  its  huge 
body,  rocking  this  way  and  that,  fell  full  length  on  the 
yielding  turf. 

“Bravo,  gallant  Prince!  Never  was  deadly  foe  more 
bravely  overcome,”  and,  looking  up,  Alexander  beheld 
Roxana’s  pale  face  peering  at  him  from  the  shrubbery 
that  surrounded  the  open  glade. 

“ ’Twas  a foolish  thing,  Roxana,  to  venture  here,  for 
the  boar  would  have  attacked  you  had  you  come  within 
his  eye,”  Alexander  exclaimed  with  some  impatience. 

“Fie!  I could  have  fled  if  need  be.  And  would  you 
have  me  sit  still,  biting  my  nails,  not  knowing  whether 
you  were  dead  or  not?  You  ask  too  much,”  she  ex- 
claimed with  flushed  face.  “But  you  are  wounded,  sweet 


112 


Iskander 


Prince,”  she  cried,  springing  from  her  horse  and  hasten- 
ing to  his  side,  trembling  and  affrighted. 

“ ’Tis  but  a scratch,”  he  answered,  opening  his  sleeve. 
“But  hark!  Our  friends  are  here,”  and  as  he  spoke  Oxy- 
artes  and  Clitus  rode  into  the  open  glade. 

Stopping  short,  surprised  at  what  they  saw,  Clitus  was 
first  to  break  the  silence,  exclaiming : 

“Hail,  my  Prince!  We  knew  not  what  had  befallen 
you,  finding  your  horse  wandering  aimlessly  in  the  plain 
and  the  other  gone,”  and  with  the  words  he  leaped  to  the 
ground  to  examine  the  stricken  boar.  “Spear  and  sword 
thrust!  I would  I had  been  here  to  see,”  he  cried,  scruti- 
nizing the  dead  animal. 

Losing  no  time  Oxyartes  sprang  from  his  horse  and 
hastened  to  his  daughter’s  side,  exclaiming  as  he  folded 
her  in  his  arms: 

“See,  my  child,  how  near  you  were  to  causing  the  death 
of  your  protector  by  your  mad  prank!” 

“It  is  the  mighty  Achilles  come  again  to  earth  as  I 
have  always  said,”  Lysimachus,  who  had  joined  them, 
here  piped  from  out  the  group.  “And  ’tis  I who  taught 
him,”  he  went  on,  poking  the  fallen  boar  contemptuously 
with  his  spear  as  if  he,  and  not  Alexander,  had  killed  it. 

“You  were  ever  a brave  teacher,  Lysimachus,”  Alex- 
ander answered  pleasantly,  in  gratification  of  the  other’s 
pride.  “But  come,  let  us  hasten  to  rejoin  our  friends. 
And  you,”  he  went  on,  addressing  the  pages  who  had  now 
approached,  “devise  some  way  to  convey  the  boar  to  the 
evening  camp  to  grace  the  board  of  our  honored  guests.” 

“Have  all  the  King’s  officers  of  rank  a corps  of  supple 
pages  to  do  their  bidding?  The  great  King  himself  is 


The  Wild  Boar  Hunt 


113 


not  better  served!”  Oxyartes  exclaimed,  his  eyes  dwelling 
on  the  picturesque  youths,  with  their  crimson  cloaks  and 
helmets  of  glistening  steel. 

“ ’Tis  the  school  in  which  our  young  nobles  are  taught 
obedience  and  the  art  of  war,”  Alexander  answered  as 
his  eyes  dwelt  with  pride  on  the  gentle  youths. 

“In  that  as  in  other  things  your  war-like  King  shows 
his  great  wisdom,”  the  Bactrian  Prince  answered  as  the 
little  group  set  out  on  their  return. 


CHAPTER  X. 


THE  POISONED  CUP. 

’Tis  as  you  say,  Clitus,’'  Lysimachus  exclaimed,  eying 
Alexander  and  Roxana.  “The  forward  maiden  has 
cast  a spell  over  our  Prince,  for  he  has  spoken  to  me  but 
once  today.’’ 

“The  distemper  grows  upon  him  fast,  for  in  one  short 
night  it  has  become  a burning  fever.” 

“I  thought  sleep  would  have  stilled  his  passion.  Nay, 
do  not  laugh,  Clitus,  for  ’tis  a serious  thing  when  such 
as  he  fall  in  love.” 

“Eye  of  Cyclops,  the  lorn  Prince  regards  not  form  at 
all,  but  pursues  his  love  with  the  ardor  of  the  mountain 
hunter,”  Clitus  exclaimed  as  he  beheld  Alexander  draw 
Roxana’s  horse  near  his  own. 

“He  is  like  his  mother  and  sets  no  bounds  to  his  pas- 
sions once  they  are  aroused.” 

“He  would  never  abide  opposition  when  his  heart  was 
stirred.  But,  beard  of  Cyclops,  I do  not  remember  that 
love  affected  me  thus  in  my  young  days.” 

“I  would  I might  caution  him  to  be  more  circumspect,” 
Lysimachus  answered  fretfully. 

“Let  him  alone.  ’Tis  better  he  love  this  sweet-faced 
maiden  than  fall  a victim  to  Attains’  niece  or  some  other 
contriving  hussy.” 


(114) 


115 


The  Poisoned  Cup 

“Methinks  Oxyartes,  if  he  were  not  blind,  should  have 
observed  our  master’s  passion  ere  this,”  Lysimachus  re- 
sponded with  ill-concealed  wrath. 

“ ’Tis  a wise  father,  old  man,  who  has  the  sense  to 
shut  his  eyes  when  men  like  Alexander  come  wooing. 
I would  I had  a daughter  to  catch  his  eye,  however  far 
apart  their  rank.  For  ’twould  make  no  difference  and 
soon  you  would  behold  me  looking  over  the  heads  of  all 
of  you,”  Clitus  cried,  smiling  at  his  own  conceit. 

“I  would  you  had,  Clitus,  for  then  ’twould  be  no  dis- 
grace to  our  country,”  Lysimachus  answered  with  a wry 
face,  turning  his  horse  aside. 

Pursuing  their  way,  Alexander  and  his  companions 
presently  coming  in  sight  of  the  marching  column, 
Ptolemy,  who  was  in  command,  lifted  his  spear,  where- 
upon the  whole  troop  putting  spurs  to  their  horses  set 
out  at  a gallop  to  welcome  the  Prince’s  safe  return.  As 
the  soldiers  drew  near  chanting  the  national  hymn,  Rox- 
ana turned  to  Alexander,  exclaiming : 

“Are  all  the  princes  of  your  country  thus  loved? 
Surely,  Alexander  himself  could  not  be  more  honored  by 
the  soldiers.” 

“They  make  little  distinction  in  such  a matter  between 
Alexander  and  another.  Ours  is  a war-like  nation  and 
those  entrusted  with  command  are  more  honored  than 
in  those  countries  where  peace  reigns,”  he  replied,  rais- 
ing his  arm  in  salutation  to  the  advancing  troop. 

“Secure  the  land  thus  favored!”  the  Bactrian  chief 
interposed  sadly,  contrasting  what  he  heard  with  the 
spirit  of  his  own  country.  “For  where  a people  are  less 
adventurous,  weak  subserviency  and  love  of  ease  quickly 


116 


I s Ic  a n cl  c r 


sap  the  courage  of  men/’  he  went  on  as  lie  watched  the 
advancing  column  with  eager  interest. 

Parting  to  the  right  and  left  the  soldiers  raised  their 
weapons  in  salutation  and  having  passed,  wheeled  about 
without  slackening  speed,  and  so  formed  in  column  behind 
the  Prince.  And  strange  sight!  each  one  displayed  at 
point  of  spear  or  hilt  of  sword  some  bit  of  cloth  of  the 
color  of  Roxana’s  veil.  Seeing  this  she  snatched  the 
helmet  from  Demetrius’  head,  and  placing  it  on  her  own, 
waved  the  silken  veil  in  fervid  thanks  for  the  graceful 
compliment.  At  this  a great  cry  went  up  and  Alex- 
ander, heeding  it,  wheeled  about  and  raised  his  plumed 
hat  in  acknowledgment  of  the  honor  paid  his  fair  com- 
panion. Then  lifting  his  sword  aloft,  the  troop  set  out 
at  a trot,  and  this  presently  changing  to  a gallop,  the 
cavalcade  reached  the  line  of  march  with  clang  of  armor 
and  thunder  of  hoof  like  unto  the  charge  of  a victorious 
army. 

‘Tell  me,  brave  Prince,  how  it  is  you  control  Bucepha- 
lus,” Roxana  exclaimed  in  admiration  as  they  drew  rein, 
“for  he  answers  to  your  will  as  if  he  were  a part  of  your- 
self.” 

“ ’Twas  not  so  at  first,  sweet  Princess.  But  giving 
way  to  his  caprice,  little  by  little,  he  came  to  love  me. 
You,  discovering  the  secret,  overcame  him  as  you  over- 
come the  hearts  of  men,”  he  answered  with  eyes  full  of 
love. 

“Why  will  you  make  every  little  thing  the  occasion  of 
some  sweet  compliment?”  she  answered,  blushing,  but 
not  as  if  offended. 

“If  I do  it  is  because  my  mouth  speaks  unwittingly 


117 


The  Poisoned  Cup 

what  my  heart  feels.  Those  who  love,  ’tis  said,  know  not 
how  to  conceal  its  whisperings,  the  delight  of  telling  it 
being  so  great,”  he  answered  as  if  his  passion  were  a 
thing  already  known. 

“Oh  Prince!” 

“Forgive  me,  sweet  Princess.  I do  but  make  excuses 
for  one  offense  than  I err  more  grievously  than  before. 
It  were  better  I said  nothing.” 

“Nay,  I would  not  have  you  otherwise  than  as  you  are, 
brave  Prince,”  she  exclaimed  with  heightened  color. 
“But  our  courtiers  have  such  subtlety  of  speech  that 
frankness  has  the  appearance  of  being  less  honest  than 
it  is.” 

“You  shall  teach  me  to  soften  that  which  is  too  frank 
and  avoid  altogether  that  which  offends  by  too  great 
freedom,”  he  answered  enraptured,  taking  her  hand. 

“Nay,  I would  have  you  speak  as  you  think.  The 
courtiers  of  the  great  King  so  labor  to  conceal  their 
thoughts  that  open  speech  is  like  the  sweet  air  of  heaven.” 

“Thanks,  sweet  Princess,  but  if  I may  judge  from  the 
looks  of  yonder  Persian,  the  eyes  of  your  courtiers  do 
not  seek  to  conceal  their  thoughts,  however  discreet  their 
tongues  may  be,”  Alexander  answered,  glancing  toward 
Mithrines,  the  Persian  grandee,  who  seemed  always  to 
be  hovering  near  them. 

“Have  you  observed  his  forwardness,  the  Satrap  of  a 
Satrap?”  she  answered  scornfully. 

“His  trappings  are  worthy  of  the  Persian  King  and 
so  I took  him  to  be  some  great  personage.” 

“His  trappings,  yes;  but  in  other  things  he  is  unworthy 
of  your  notice.” 


118 


I s kand  er 


^‘Nay,  if  he  be  not  in  your  favor  that  is  all  I care  to 
know.  But  tell  me  how  he  has  offended  you?''  Alexander 
asked,  observing  her  look  of  distress. 

^‘By  his  ungracious  actions  and  evil  looks,"  she  an- 
swered in  a low  voice. 

‘'If  that  be  so,  how  does  it  happen  that  he  is  here,  in 
your  father's  train?"  Alexander  asked  in  surprise. 

“Governor  of  Sardis,  he  is  entrusted  with  some  special 
mission  by  the  great  King  and  so  is  without  the  bounds 
of  my  father's  control,"  she  replied  with  constrained 
voice. 

“Surely,  Darius  would  not  knowingly  put  so  great  an 
affront  on  your  father,  sweet  Princess,  when  he  entrusts 
him  with  events  of  such  importance  to  his  kingdom?" 

“I  know  not  how  it  is,  for  the  great  King  loves  my 
father  as  his  very  life,  for,  indeed,  it  is  to  him  he  owes 
his  life." 

“His  life?  Then  indeed  the  tie  must  be  a strong  one, 
for  the  lives  of  kings  are  held  more  sacred  than  those  of 
other  men,  though  they  have  like  value  to  all." 

“Yes,  and  not  to  be  measured  if  the  King  be  young  and 
handsome,  and,  withal,  ruler  of  Persia." 

“Tell  me  what  the  service  was  if  it  be  not  a secret." 

“ 'Tis  a long  story,  oh  Prince,  and  I fear  the  telling  of 
it  would  weary  you." 

“If  it  be  long,  so  much  the  better,"  he  answered,  re- 
garding her  with  rapt  admiration. 

“You  must  know,  then,"  she  went  on,  giving  him  a 
sidelong  look,  “that  the  lives  of  our  kings  in  these  later 
years  have  been  scarce  a span  in  length;  and  all  through 
the  wickedness  of  the  eunuch  Bagoas,  through  whose 


119 


The  Poisoned  Cup 

cunning  and  skill  Egypt  was  recovered  to  the  Persian 
crown.  Because  of  this  service  Ochus,  the  great  King, 
enriched  him  and  made  him  a minister  about  his  person. 
But  in  an  evil  hour  the  eunuch,  thinking  to  become  still 
more  powerful,  murdered  his  noble  master,  seating  Arses, 
a weak  Prince,  on  the  throne  instead.  But  the  latter,  a 
little  while  after,  offending  his  exalted  subject  in  some 
way,  Bagoas  put  him  to  death  secretly,  as  he  had  his 
predecessor.  Being  now  all  powerful  he  caused  Darius, 
our  present  King,  to  be  seated  on  the  throne.  But  scarce 
a year  had  passed  when  Bagoas,  possessed  with  the  fever 
of  murder,  planned  Darius’  death  as  he  had  the  others; 
and  poison  being  the  surest  agent  and  occasioning  less 
remark  than  any  other,  he  chose  that  means  of  achieving 
his  end.  But  my  father  being  the  King’s  cup-bearer  and 
having  spies  about  Bagoas,  discovered  the  design  ere  he 
could  put  it  in  execution.  Bagoas,  suspecting  nothing 
and  intent  upon  his  purpose,  caused  the  fatal  cup  to  be 
prepared  and  presented  to  the  trusting  King,  as  he  supped 
with  his  court  about  him.  Approaching  Darius  my 
father  whispered  in  his  ear  that  his  very  life  depended  on 
his  doing  as  he  said.  Darius,  staring  and  dumfounded, 
nevertheless  nodded  assent,  upon  which  my  father  called 
Bagoas  to  approach  the  King’s  couch.  Suspecting  noth- 
ing he  knelt  in  all  humility  before  the  great  King,  where- 
upon my  father  with  much  courtesy  of  speech — for  I 
stood  by  and  heard  all — exclaimed,  ‘The  King,  in  ac- 
knowledgment of  your  love  and  in  some  requital  of  your 
long  service  to  the  state,  desires  you  to  exchange  cups 
with  him,  that  his  affection  for  you  may  be  made  more 
clear  to  all  the  court,’  and  ceasing  he  took  the  goblet 


120 


Is  k and  er 


from  Bagoas’  shaking  hand,  presenting  the  King^s  to  him 
in  exchange.  At  this,  turning  white  and  all  of  a tremor, 
the  vile  wretch  would  have  declined  the  invitation,  but 
the  King,  leaning  forward,  cried  in  a voice  that  could 
be  heard  throughout  the  room,  ‘Drink,  Bagoas,  to  your 
King.’  ” 

“And  Bagoas?”  exclaimed  Alexander  with  impatient 
interest. 

“The  wretched  creature  was  not  less  brave  than  cruel. 
Seeing  that  his  contrivance  had  been  detected  and  that 
there  was  no  escape,  he  raised  his  head  and,  looking  the 
King  steadfastly  in  the  face,  drank  the  fatal  draught.”* 

“Alas!  poor  King,  I hope  he  may  not  live  to  regret 
his  refusal  of  the  proffered  cup,”  Alexander  answered 
in  a low  voice,  as  if  foreseeing  the  distressful  life  and 
cruel  death  of  this  most  unhappy  of  monarchs.  “But 
’tis  the  fate  of  kings  to  die  like  great  Ochus,  rather  than 
upon  the  field  of  battle  or  in  their  bed,  sweet  Princess. 
In  my  own  country  of  its  sixteen  kings  and  expectant 
heirs  fourteen  were  foully  slain  in  the  fifty  years  preced- 
ing Philip’s  rise.  Yet,”  he  went  on,  as  if  speaking  to 
himself,  “as  one  generation  follows  fast  upon  another, 
each  strives  for  the  dangerous  honor,  forgetful  of  the 
others’  fate,  or  boldly  daring  it.” 

“ ’Tis  as  if  some  avenging  deity  ordained  the  manner 
and  hour  of  their  death  ere  they  were  born,”  Roxana 

*When  Persia  at  last  succumbed  to  Alexanders  arms,  the  ward- 
robe of  the  eunuch  Bagoas  when  brought  to  light,  was  found  to  be 
worth  the  enormous  sum  of  i,ooo  talents,  or  about  $1,150,000  in  gold. 
Such  is  the  account  of  historians.  Nothing  could  more  fitly  illus- 
trate the  riches  of  Persia  or  the  power  and  splendor  of  this  astute 
and  cruel  minister  of  the  great  King;  a creature  bred  in  the  harem 
of  the  Persian  court  for  a servile  office. 


121 


The  Poisoned  Cup 

answered  with  pitying  voice.  “Glad  I am,  oh  Prince, 
that  no  friend  of  mine  is  of  the  kingly  house.  ’Twould 
be  as  if  he  were  already  condemned  to  die.  Mithrines,” 
she  went  on,  as  if  in  warning  to  her  companion,  “will 
find  a favoring  atmosphere  at  Pella  if  his  mission  be  what 
I fear  it  is.  But  see,  oh  Prince,  how  the  creature  scowls 
upon  you  as  if  contemplating  some  foul  deed.” 

“Nay,  do  not  harbor  such  distrustful  thoughts,  sweet 
Princess.  He  can  do  me  no  harm,  but  because  he  gives 
you  annoyance,  I will  bid  Clitus  put  some  sure  curb  upon 
him,”  Alexander  answered  reassuringly. 

“No,  no,  you  shall  not  meddle,  Iskander.  For  you 
must  know  I have  not  dared  voice  my  complaints  concern- 
ing him,  lest  my  father’s  mission  suffer  and  his  reputation 
be  impaired  thereby,”  the  sweet  woman  answered  pas- 
sionately. 

“Fear  not,  sweet  Princess,  that  your  father  will  be 
harmed  by  anything  I may  do.” 

“Nay,  you  shall  not  act  at  all,  for  only  harm  would 
come  of  it.  He  is  not  like  other  men,  and  so  it  is  I fear 
that  the  great  King  sends  him  here.  A Greek,  he  is  more 
Persian  than  my  father.  Yet  at  Athens  he  consorted 
only  v/ith  our  enemies,  losing  no  chance  to  harm  our 
cause.” 

“Then  he  is  both  traitor  to  his  King  and  renegade  to 
his  country.” 

“Nor  is  that  all.  For  last  night  when  the  Thebans 
thronged  about  us,  he  took  no  part  in  the  defense,  weak 
though  it  was,  but  stood  some  Vv^ay  off,  looking  on  as  if 
he  wished  the  marauders  might  work  their  will.” 

“By  the  Gods ! if  that  be  true  he  deserves  to  die,”  Alex- 


122 


I skan  der 


ander  answered,  conjuring  in  his  mind  the  fate  that 
would  have  befallen  his  companion  had  the  Thebans’ 
attack  succeeded.  “So  great  an  infamy  merits  death  and 
I will  lose  no  time  in  having  Clitus  set  a watch  upon  him. 
It  will  be  a favor  he  will  relish  once  he  knows  the  man’s 
baseness.” 

“Promise  me,  Iskander,  that  you  will  have  no  quarrel 
with  him.  Nay,  do  not  shake  your  head,  but  promise, 
if  all  the  kind  things  you  have  said  were  not  in  idle  mer- 
riment,” and  reaching  out  she  laid  her  hand  on  his,  look- 
ing in  his  face  with  such  earnest  pleading  that  he  was  at 
last  fain  to  do  as  she  asked. 

Mithrines,  as  if  divining  that  their  speech  concerned 
him,  now  putting  spurs  to  his  horse,  approached  them, 
bowing  low  on  the  black  Syrian  steed  he  bestrode  with 
graceful  ease. 

“Hail,  fair  Princess,  and  greeting!”  he  cried  with  ill- 
concealed  anger,  “if  the  seeming  danger  that  threatened 
you,  and  your  pre-occupation  with  these  strangers,  has 
not  caused  you  to  forget  your  friends.” 

“The  danger  I incurred  was  nothing,  or  had  it  been 
this  brave  Prince  was  happily  near  to  save  me,”  she  an- 
swered coldly. 

“ ’Tis  an  old  device  to  put  life  in  seeming  jeopardy 
that  credit  may  follow  some  successful  trick  in  averting 
it,”  he  exclaimed  scornfully. 

“The  danger  I incurred  in  mounting  the  untried  horse 
was  all  my  own  and  despite  the  Prince’s  effort  to  dissuade 
me  from  the  foolish  act,”  she  answered  reluctantly. 

“For  which  failure  it  seems  he  is  to  be  further 
favored.” 


123 


The  Poisoned  Cup 

“Your  rude  speech  is  singularly  ill-timed,  Mithrines,” 
Roxana  answered,  laying  her  hand  on  Alexander’s  arm 
to  stay  his  rising  speech,  “where  we  owe  so  much  and 
have  so  little  with  which  to  repay  the  debt.” 

“I  hope,  fair  Princess,  you  do  not  look  upon  last  night’s 
intrusion  as  a service,  for  we  should  have  had  little  diffi- 
culty in  extricating  ourselves  without  meddlesome  inter- 
ference fi'om  without.” 

“Such  speech  is  little  becoming  in  one  who  took  no 
part  in  the  defense,  but  stood  apart  as  if  afraid,”  she 
answered  scornfully,  beseeching  Alexander  with  her  eyes 
to  keep  silent. 

“If  I did  as  you  say,  it  was  only  to  find  some  sure  way 
of  averting  the  danger  afterwards,”  he  answered,  color- 
ing. 

“Yes,  and  while  you  pondered  .we  were  overcome.  But 
others  more  brave,  if  less  discreet,  seeing  our  distress 
rushed  in  and  we  were  saved  from  death.  The  noble- 
men of  Persia  are  strangers  to  so  much  discretion,”  she 
exclaimed,  looking  into  Alexander’s  face  with  piteous 
entreaty. 

“ ’Tis  a thing  never  held  in  high  esteem  there  or  else- 
where where  those  in  command,  by  rash  adventure,  en- 
danger what  they  unwisely  seek  to  mend,”  Mithrines 
answered,  waving  his  hand  towards  Alexander. 

“For  shame,  to  give  expression  to  so  rude  a speech,” 
Roxana  cried,  her  face  on  fire. 

“Why  should  you  take  offense  when  the  object  of  your 
solicitude  seems  not  to  be  touched  by  what  I say?  But 
perhaps  he  is  only  familiar  with  the  rude  dialect  of  the 
Macedonian  tribes,”  Mithrines  answered  contemptuously. 


124 


Iskander 


At  this  Alexander  furiously  spurring  to  the  side  of 
Mithrines,  caught  his  bridle  rein,  exclaiming  in  a frenzy 
of  rage : 

“Coward  and  renegade!  dare  you  use  such  speech  in 
the  presence  of  this  gentle  Princess ! Begone!  Nor  show 
yourself  again  till  you  are  called !”  and  whipping  out  his 
sword  he  struck  Mithrines’  horse  across  the  flank  with  its 
glistening  side. 

“By  the  Gods,  your  speech  shall  cost  you  your  life!” 
Mithrines  cried,  drawing  his  sword  and  turning  upon 
Alexander.  But  the  latter,  returning  his  weapon  to  its 
place,  cried  out  in  derision : 

“Begone,  renegade,  slave  of  a Persian  master,  and 
seek  more  fit  occasion  for  the  display  of  your  valor.” 

“While  you  hide  behind  the  rabble  that  follows  you,” 
Mithrines  cried,  scarce  able  to  speak,  so  great  was  his 
wrath. 

“You  have  nothing  to  fear  from  them.  For  we  allow 
every  latitude  in  my  country  to  those  having  a personal 
grievance  to  redress,”  Alexander  answered  with  cold  dis- 
dain, returning  to  Roxana’s  side. 

“I  shall  take  occasion  ere  the  day  closes  to  teach  you 
to  be  more  circumspect  of  speech  and  act,”  the  other 
cried,  white  with  rage  and  shame,  and  putting  spurs  to 
his  horse  plunged  forward  to  where  his  companion, 
Bessus,  awaited  his  coming. 

“Is  that  the  creature  you  would  have  me  fear,  gentle 
Princess?”  Alexander  exclaimed,  his  eyes  lighting  up 
with  mirth.  “Fie!  the  buffoons  who  beguile  the  Athenian 
rabble  in  the  market  place  are  more  dangerous.” 

“Think  not  lightly  of  him,  oh  Prince,  for  he  is  not 


125 


The  Poisoned  Cup 

lacking*  in  courage.  Twas  he,  I more  than  suspect,  who 
gave  the  Thebans  notice  of  our  coming,  hoping  to  gain 
some  end  thereby  and  yet  escape  suspicion,’’  she  answered 
confidently. 

‘That  I can  well  believe,  but  wonder  the  more  to  find 
him  trusted  and  in  such  company.” 

“His  part  in  the  embassy  is  not  thought  to  be  to  his 
honor,  for  it  is  believed  he  is  here  to  spy  upon  his  col- 
leagues and  incite  the  enemies  of  Philip  and  Alexander 
to  put  them  to  death.  My  father  has  such  fears  and 
keeps  him  under  watchful  care,  but  Mithrines  being  his 
colleague  he  cannot  act  effectively  or  make  known  his 
suspicions  to  others.  I,  who  am  not  bound  by  any  rule, 
may  speak  thus  frankly,  although  I could  not  say  as  much 
to  Philip  or  Alexander.” 

“Thanks,  gentle  Princess,  for  the  warning  which  I will 
not  fail  to  heed  in  devising  measures  to  protect  the  person 
of  the  King.” 

“And  the  Prince  not  less,  Iskander.” 

“Oh,  he  is  in  no  danger,  fair  pleader,  for  he  has  done 
nothing  to  arouse  the  fear  or  enmity  of  any  one.  But 
tell  me  how  it  is,  sweet  Princess,  that  your  King  entrusts 
so  great  a citadel  as  Sardis,  the  bulwark  of  his  western 
border,  to  so  poor  a guardian?” 

“I  know  not,  except  that  the  King  is  far  away  and 
must  trust  some  one.” 

“If  such  men  be  chosen  then  weak  must  be  Persia’s  de- 
fense,” Alexander  answered  thoughtfully.  “But  you  are 
wearied,  sweet  Princess.  Let  us  exchange  our  horses 
for  the  sheltered  seat  on  the  back  of  your  gentle  drome- 


126 


Iskander 


dary.  There  you  may  rest  and  I still  keep  your  company. 
Such  journeying  will  be  new  to  me.” 

“If  that  be  so,  it  will  not  be  to  your  liking,  for  the 
ungainly  animals  are  as  rough  of  motion  to  those  unused 
to  it  as  a troubled  sea.” 

“Which  I would  gladly  seek,  fair  Princess,  if  finding 
it  I might  share  the  discomforts  with  you,”  he  cried, 
springing  from  his  horse  and  lifting  Roxana  to  the 
ground. 

Seating  his  companion  on  the  kneeling  dromedary, 
Alexander  placed  himself  beside  her,  nor  found  the  seat 
too  crowded.  Quickly  accustoming  himself  to  the  awk- 
ward motions  of  the  patient  animal  he  exclaimed  as  he 
contemplated  the  picturesque  landscape: 

“The  view,  fair  Princess,  from  this  lofty  seat  well 
repays  the  discomfort  if  there  were  any.” 

“Yes,  here  one  may  see  the  Thessalian  plain  in  all  its 
beauty.  It  is  like  the  valleys  of  far-off  Bactria.  But  tell 
me  of  these  heights,”  she  went  on,  gazing  with  rapt  admi- 
ration on  the  towering  mountains. 

“They  are  a part  of  the  life  of  Greece  and  what  the 
Macedonians  who  were  bred  among  the  mountain  soli- 
tudes love  most  of  all.  That  lofty  chain,”  he  went  on, 
pointing  to  the  west,  “reaching  to  the  north  and  south 
far  beyond  the  compass  of  our  eyes,  is  Pindus’  rugged 
outlines.  The  mountains  in  our  front  are  the  Cambunian 
range,  and  beyond  them  Macedonia  and  Pella  lie.  The 
snow-capped  mountain  to  the  right  is  mighty  Olympus, 
and  amid  its  lofty  .solitudes  the  Gods  of  Greece  watch 
over  the  destinies  of  men,”  he  exclaimed,  with  reverent 
awe.  “This  way,  where  the  mountain  dips,  lies  the  Vale 


127 


The  Poisoned  Cup 

of  Tempe,  sweetest  of  earth’s  treasures.  Crowding  upon 
it  from  the  south  is  rugged  Ossa,  the  haunt  of  savage 
animals  and  still  more  savage  men.  To  the  south  and 
bordering  on  the  sea  Pelion  rears  its  crest.  Before  us  the 
strip  of  vivid  green,  low  down  on  the  horizon,  marks  the 
Peneus,  Thessaly’s  noble  river.  There,  upon  its  banks, 
if  it  please  you,  sweet  Princess,  we  will  fix  our  camp  for 
the  night.” 

“Afterwards,  sweet  Prince,  does  our  course  lay 
straight  across  the  mountains  or  do  we  make  some  slight 
detour  ?” 

“Tomorrow  we  follow  the  winding  river  through  the 
Vale  of  Tempe  to  find  vessels  awaiting  to  carry  us  to  our 
destination,  if  that  be  your  choice.” 

“I  did  not  know  that  Pella  lay  by  the  sea.” 

“Nor  does  it,  but  on  the  Lydias,  a lazy  stream  that  the 
King  has  deepened  and  widened  till  it  has  room  for  the 
largest  vessel,”  he  answered,  thinking  with  pride  of  the 
great  achievement. 

“Did  you  plan  the  journey  as  you  describe  it  from  the 
start  or  is  it  some  new  thought  ?”  she  asked  with  curious 
interest. 

“We  had  intended  to  cross  the  mountain,  but  thinking 
the  other  less  tiresome,  couriers  have  been  dispatched  for 
ships  to  meet  us,  if  that  be  your  pleasure.” 

“This  change  is  all  on  our  behalf,  not  yours.  Say ! is 
it  not  so,  gallant  Prince?”  she  cried,  her  delight  showing 
in  her  smiling  conutenance. 

“If  it  were  and  it  pleases  you,  would  not  the  comfort  of 
our  guests  be  warrant  enough  for  the  change?  Perhaps, 
too,  I had  a selfish  reason,  for  in  the  way  I have  planned 


128 


Iskander 


our  journey  will  be  somewhat  prolonged,”  he  exclaimed, 
gazing  into  her  face  and  striving  to  read  her  thoughts. 
But  if  she  were  displeased  no  sign  of  it  showed  in  her 
smiling  countenance.  Thus  they  moved  slowly  forward, 
saying  little,  their  hands  often  touching,  and  ever  with 
some  thrill  of  pleasure  till  then  unknown.  At  last  as  the 
sun  sank  behind  Pindus’  towering  heights  the  lofty  cita- 
del of  Larissa  came  in  view.  Turning  to  one  side  they 
halted  some  distance  from  the  ancient  city  and  there 
fixed  their  camp  for  the  night  amid  the  oaks  and  stately 
beech  trees  that  bordered  the  banks  of  the  turbulent  river. 


CHAPTER  XL 


THE  MIDNIGHT  DUEL. 

Fixing  his  camp  close  by  the  river  bank  Alexander 
bathed  and  prepared  for  the  daily  sacrifice  to  the  Gods. 
Encasing  his  feet  in  sandals,  he  donned  a tunic  of  snow- 
white  linen,  crowning  his  head  with  a circlet  of  oak 
leaves.  Summoning  his  followers  to  the  sacred  duty, 
they  erected  a rude  altar  of  stone,  adorned  with  sprigs 
of  pine,  upon  which  they  lighted  a fire.  Now,  in  special 
thanksgiving  and  praise  for  the  protection  and  favor 
accorded  them,  a young  bull  was  brought  forward  as  an 
offering.  Cleansing  his  hands  in  a silver  basin  and 
offering  a prayer,  Alexander  sprinkled  the  sacrificial  bar- 
ley on  the  head  of  the  waiting  animal.  Then  cutting  the 
hair  from  off  its  forelock  he  placed  it  on  the  fire  with  the 
kernels  of  barley.  Every  preparatory  office  being  now 
completed,  Clitus  coming  forward,  struck  the  animal  to 
the  earth  with  a blow  on  its  upraised  neck.  Ere  it  could 
regain  its  feet,  Craterus  who  waited,  severed  its  throat, 
the  black  blood  being  caught  by  Alexander  in  a silver 
ewer  as  it  flowed  from  the  gaping  wound.  Holding  it 
aloft  and  asking  acceptance  of  the  God,  he  poured  the 
offering  on  the  sacrificial  fire.  Afterwards  the  head  of 
the  bull  being  severed  he  lifted  it  up  in  like  manner  as  an 
offering.  Clitus  and  the  others  now  flaying  the  animal, 
the  thigh  bones  were  separated  and  covered  over  with 
pieces  of  fat.  These,  being  the  portions  allotted  to  the 

(129) 


130 


I skander 


Gods  by  sacred  custom,  Alexander  placed  upon  the  fire 
to  be  consumed,  pouring  libations  of  pure  wine  upon  the 
offering. 

The  sacrifice  completed,  the  other  parts  of  the  animal 
were  cut  into  portions  and  roasted  upon  spits,  ec[ual  parts 
being  allotted  the  waiting  soldiers.  The  evening  meal 
being  now  in  order  it  was  attended  with  indulgence  in 
wine,  the  first  drops  poured  into  each  cup  being  emptied 
upon  the  ground  as  a libation.  In  this  way,  having  eaten 
their  fill  and  every  sacred  duty  being  performed,  those 
who  had  feasted  reclined  at  length  on  the  mossy  bank 
and  drank  their  fill.  And  in  this  last  the  Macedonians 
ever  indulged  to  excess,  their  habits  in  this  respect  being 
the  scorn  and  aversion  of  the  more  abstemious  Greeks. 

The  daily  sacrifice  was  a part  of  Alexander’s  life,  for 
he  ever  believed  in  the  protection  and  guidance  of  the 
Gods.  Not  in  a bigoted  or  self-assertive  way,  it  may  be 
said,  but  as  a part  of  his  inheritance  as  a Greek;  for  when, 
as  emperor  of  Persia,  he  was  brought  in  contact  with  the 
strange  religions  of  Asia,  he  paid  their  devotees  the  re- 
spect of  his  countenance  and  protection,  but  never  to  the 
forgetfulness  of  the  Gods  of  his  own  country.  Such  was 
the  amiable  nature  of  this  great  warrior  and  chivalrous 
Prince  throughout  all  his  stormy  life. 

Separating  himself  from  his  companions  at  an  early 
hour,  Alexander  retired  to  his  tent  surrounded  by  the 
royal  pages  whose  duty  it  was  to  wait  upon  him  and 
watch  by  his  bed  at  night. 

While  reclining  on  a couch  discussing  with  Clitus  the 
doings  of  the  morrow  they  were  disturbed  by  the  ap- 
proach of  the  Persian  grandee,  Bessus,  his  cloaked  form 


131 


The  Midnight  Duel 

looming  like  a spectre  in  the  light  of  the  Pierian  torches. 
Clad  in  a loose  Median  robe  of  purple  cloth,  he  stopped 
upon  the  threshold  of  the  tent  and,  bowing  low,  awaited 
speech  from  the  Prince.  Seeing  him,  Clitus  sprang  to 
his  feet  with  hospitable  intent,  and  passing  his  drinking 
horn  to  Demetrius,  cried  out  with  cheerful  good  will : 

“Welcome,  noble  Persian.  You  are  in  good  time  to 
drink  a bumper  to  our  sweet  Prince  and  the  God  of 
Night,”  and  catching  up  a cup  he  filled  it  to  the  brim. 
Approaching  the  waiting  guest  he  sought  to  lead  him  to 
a couch,  but  the  other,  disengaging  his  arm  and  straight- 
ening himself  up,  answered  with  little  show  of  courtesy: 

“I  come  not  to  drink  nor  indulge  in  idle  pleasantry, 
but  to  fulfill  a duty  that  calls  for  few  words,  and  admits 
of  few  civilities.” 

“Eye  of  Cyclops!  What  manner  of  man  are  you  to 
thus  reject  offer  of  hospitality,  be  your  errand  what  it 
may?”  Clitus  answered  in  surprise.  “But  come,”  he  went 
on,  observing  the  upraised  hand  of  the  Prince,  “join  us 
in  a bumper  to  the  great  King,  if  that  be  more  agreeable 
to  you.” 

“Nay,  I cannot  drink  with  those  to  whom  I bring  a 
hostile  message  even  to  honor  the  great  King.” 

“Then  by  Cyclops’  beard,  the  sweet  earth  shall  have 
what  you  refuse,”  Clitus  exclaimed  in  a towering  passion, 
dashing  the  cup  to  the  ground.  Drawing  his  sword  he 
cried : “Quick ! tell  me  your  errand,  proud  Persian. 
You  will  not  find  a Macedonian  backward  in  answering 
such  a summons,  come  from  whom  it  may.” 

“Nay,  be  not  so  hasty,  Clitus,”  Lysimachus  interposed 
with  mild  speech.  “The  Persian  has  mistaken  our  tent 


132 


I skander 


for  another.  We  have  no  quarrel  with  him,  a follower 
in  the  train  of  Oxyartes,  our  honored  friend.'' 

‘‘No,  there  is  nO'  mistake  if  this  be  the  tent  of  him 
whom  you  call  Prince,"  Bessus  answered,  somewhat  con- 
temptuously. 

“Whom  we  call  Prince!  By  the  beard  of  Cyclops,  in- 
solent dog,  I will  spit  you  where  you  stand  if  you  ven- 
ture further  to  transgress  the  dignity  of  our  Prince!" 
Clitus  cried,  menacing  the  other  with  his  uplifted  sword. 

“Peace,  Clitus,  let  him  deliver  his  message  and  depart. 
What  matters  its  form?"  Alexander  answered,  without 
rising  from  his  couch.  “Go  on,  Persian,  I am  listening." 

“I  bear  a message,  oh  Macedonian,  from  Mithrines, 
Governor  of  Sardis,  a Prince  in  rank,  to  demand  apology 
or  other  suitable  reparation  for  the  insult  publicly  offered 
him  by  you  this  day." 

“Do  you  think,  spiller  of  good  wine,"  Clitus  inter- 
posed, with  scornful  wrath,  “that  the  exalted  Prince  will 
bring  dishonor  on  the  King  by  fighting  with  the  Grecian 
renegade?  I were  the  more  fit  and  will  answer  when  and 
how  you  will,"  he  went  on,  drawing  his  cloak  about  him. 

“The  noble  Mithrines  will  fight  only  with  the  Prince. 
He  has  no  cause  of  quarrel  with  the  underlings  of  the 
camp,"  Bessus  answered  shortly. 

“Do  you  call  me  an  underling ! By  the  flaming  eye  of 
Cyclops,  defend  yourself  ere  I run  you  through!"  Clitus 
cried,  advancing  on  him.  But  Alexander,  restraining 
him,  from  his  couch,  with  a word,  called  to  Bessus,  ex- 
claiming: 

“Go  to  your  friend,  noble  Persian,  and  say  that  the 
I^rince  will  grant  him  his  prayer  within  the  hour." 


133 


The  Midnight  Duel 

“Nay,  such  a thing  must  not  be.  What  would  the  King 
say?’'  Lysimachus  cried,  falling  on  his  knees  in  supplica- 
tion. 

“He  would  say  that  princes,  like  other  men,  must 
punish  those  who  insult  them,  and  with  their  own  hands 
if  need  be.  Go  to  your  friend,  oh  Persian,  and  when  the 
moon  shows  above  the  mountain,  I will  meet  him  on  the 
border  of  the  plain.  Let  him  be  mounted  and  clad  in 
armor,"  and  dismissing  the  messenger  he  drank  off  the 
goblet  of  wine  which  he  had  held  until  then  untasted. 

“By  the  Gods,  'tis  thus  you  should  answer  the  proud 
Persian.  Etiquette  and  kingly  dignity  to  the  dogs,  say 
I,"  Clitus  cried,  falling  on  his  knees  and  kissing  Alex- 
ander's hand  in  rapt  admiration.  “When  you  have 
stretched  Mithrines  on  the  plain  I will  do  no  less  for 
Bessus." 

“No!  You  have  no  just  quarrel  with  the  Persian,  Cli- 
tus. He  does  but  espouse  his  friend's  cause,  and  if  he  be 
rude  in  performing  his  office,  the  offense  may  be  ex- 
cused," Alexander  answered  sternly. 

“Nay,  sweet  Prince,  I will  give  him  good  cause  for  his 
own  killing.  Dead,  there  will  be  one  Persian  less  when 
we  cross  the  Hellespont." 

“No,  I would  not,  for  any  private  grudge,  have  a Per- 
sian noble  missing  from  the  great  King's  ranks  on  that 
eventful  day,"  Alexander  answered,  springing  to  his  feet, 
as  if  the  conflict  were  already  at  hand. 

“Alas,  the  sorry  day  that  Achilles  should  draw  private 
sword  against  a lesser  foe  than  the  great  King  himself," 
Lysimachus  piped,  in  a broken  voice,  from  the  couch  on 
which  he  had  cast  himself. 


134 


Iskander 


''Remember,  good  Lysimachus,’'  the  Prince  answered 
mildly,  " 'tis  thought  I am  only  an  officer  of  rank,  and  to 
decline  the  combat  would  dishonor  both  myself  and  the 
King/^ 

"But  I have  only  to  say  you  are  Alexander  and  that 
will  end  it,’'  the  other  answered,  starting  up. 

"But  I would  not  have  you  to  avoid  a thousand  such 
encounters,"  Alexander  cried  impatiently,  thinking  of 
his  love.  "Be  still,  good  Lysimachus,"  and  turning  to 
Clitus  he  cried,  "Arm  and  mount  and  I will  do  the  same, 
nor  must  we  keep  the  Persian  waiting." 

Clitus  forthwith  taking  his  leave,  Alexander  motioned 
the  waiting  pages  to  approach  and  assist  him  to  put  on 
his  armor.  When  this  was  done  and  his  horse  brought 
he  hastened  to  join  Clitus,  who  already  awaited  his  com- 
ing. Emerging  from  his  tent  Alexander,  to  his  great 
surprise,  came  full  upon  Roxana  and  her  father. 

"Our  visit  is  most  inopportune,  oh  Prince,"  Oxyartes 
exclaimed,  seeing  Alexander  armed,  "and  we  must  crave 
pardon  for  obtruding  unannounced." 

"Nay,  you  are  ever  a welcome  guest,  but  now,  oh 
Prince,  an  urgent  matter  prevents  my  entertaining  you 
with  fitting  hospitality,"  he  answered,  taking  Roxana's 
hand  and  lifting  it  to  his  lips. 

"Is  there  some  danger  to  the  camp,  gentle  Prince,  that 
you  and  the  noble  Clitus  go  forth  at  night  thus  armed?" 
Roxana  asked  with  trembling  voice,  as  if  divining  the 
nature  of  his  errand. 

"The  savagery  of  the  country  constrains  every  one  to 
go  armed,  sweet  Princess,  though  it  were  only  to  make 
the  rounds  of  a peaceful  camp." 


135 


The  Midnight  Duel 

“One  were  not  safe  a stone’s  throw  otherwise,’’  Clitus 
interposed  in  further  excuse. 

“But  your  guard,  sweet  Prince?  Surely  it  should  ac- 
company you  if  there  is  danger,’’  Roxana  persisted, 
grasping  Alexander’s  hand  in  both  her  own. 

“You  do  not  count  Clitus,  sweet  Princess.  What  need 
is  there  of  guard  if  he  be  with  me?’’  Alexander  responded 
pleasantly. 

“Tell  me  your  errand,  sweet  Prince,  for  you  seek  but 
to  mislead  us  by  what  you  say,’’  she  cried,  tears  starting 
in  her  eyes  as  she  looked  Alexander  beseechingly  in  the 
face. 

“My  errand  is  not  one  that  endangers  the  life  of  either 
of  us,”  he  answered,  pressing  her  hand.  “Go  to  your 
tent,  sweet  being,  and  let  no  thought  of  me  disturb  vour 
peaceful  sleep.” 

“Oh  guard  your  life,  Iskander,  lest  losing  it  I should 
die  of  grief,  knowing  I was  the  cause,”  she  murmured 
in  a voice  so  low  that  only  he  could  hear. 

“I  could  not  lose  it  if  I would,  knowing  you  have  some 
interest  in  its  preservation,”  he  answered,  bending  low 
over  her  hand  and  pressing  it  to  his  lips.  “Adieu,  sweet 
Princess,  till  tomorrow,”  he  exclaimed,  taking  leave  of 
her,  and  mounting  his  horse  waved  her  a fond  farewell 
as  he  rode  away. 

Reaching  the  open  plain,  the  full  moon  filled  its  broad 
expanse  as  with  the  light  of  day.  Looking  about  they 
saw  no  one,  the  quietness  of  the  night  being  undisturbed 
save  by  the  whisperings  of  the  sleeping  forest. 

“We  are  early,  or  more  likely  the  braggarts  have 
evaded  us,”  Clitus  exclaimed,  looking  about.  But  even 


136 


I skander 


as  he  spoke,  those  they  sought  emerged  at  a gallop  from 
the  shadows  of  the  trees.  ‘'No,  by  the  beard  of  Cyclops, 
they  are  in  good  time.  Wait  here,  my  Prince,  while  I 
fix  the  particulars  of  the  fight, he  cried,  as  the  Persians 
came  to  a halt  some  distance  away.  Hastening  to  the 
side  of  Bessus  he  exclaimed,  as  he  reined  in  his  horse: 
“We  await  you,  oh  Persians,  as  you  see.’' 

The  other,  saluting  him,  cried  out,  with  little  show  of 
ceremony : 

“Place  your  man  and  I will  do  the  same,  the  distance 
to  be  not  less  than  one  hundred  paces.” 

To  this  Clitus  assenting,  Bessus  went  on  in  a voice  that 
everyone  could  hear : 

“The  fight  being  on,  what  conditions  do  you  impose?” 

“There  can  be  none,  save  that  it  be  to  the  death,”  Mith- 
rines  angrily  interposed. 

“ ’Tis  what  I would  have  asked,”  Clitus  answered 
grimly.  “When  the  combatants  have  been  placed,”  he 
Vv^ent  on,  turning  to  Bessus,  “we  will  meet  midway  in  the 
field,  if  that  please  you.” 

“The  signal?”  Bessus  exclaimed. 

“The  lowering  of  my  spear.” 

It  being  thus  agreed,  they  turned,  each  placing  his 
principal  in  the  open  moonlight  facing  the  opposing 
horseman.  This  being  done  Clitus  and  Bessus  joined 
each  other  midway  of  the  field  as  had  been  agreed.  Now 
everything  being  ready,  Clitus  lost  no  time  in  giving  the 
signal  to  engage.  At  this  the  adversaries,  with  shields 
upraised  and  spears  protruding,  spurring  their  horses  to 
the  utmost,  rushed  upon  each  other  with  savage  fury. 
As  they  closed  with  thundering  sound  the  mighty  on- 


137 


The  Midnight  Duel 

slaught  bore  each  rider  backward  on  his  steed,  the  horses, 
stayed  by  the  shock,  sinking,  quivering,  on  their 
haunches.  The  combatants,  unharmed,  quickly  recov- 
ering their  seats,  raised  their  fiery  steeds  with  voice  and 
spur,  and  wheeling,  charged  anew.  But  without  harm 
save  the  shock,  each  catching  the  other’s  spear,  as  before, 
upon  the  face  of'  his  protecting  shield.  Turning  about, 
and  Alexander’s  horse  swerving  within  the  shadow  of 
the  overhanging  trees,  a figure  darted  from  the  forest 
with  uplifted  spear  to  thrust  him  in  the  side.  Observing 
the  treacherous  foe  in  time  Alexander  received  the  blow 
upon  his  uplifted  buckler,  and  keeping  on  at  topmost 
speed  ran  his  assailant  through  the  body.  Tearing  his 
weapon  from  the  quivering  flesh  he  whirled  to  find  Mith- 
rines  close  upon  him.  Bracing  himself  to  meet  the  shock, 
he  received  the  other’s  weapon  full  on  his  upraised  shield, 
the  crushing  blow  shivering  the  shaft  in  Mithrines’  hand. 
Then,  as  the  latter  passed,  and  before  he  could  recover 
his  defense,  Alexander  hurled  the  bloody  spear  he  held 
aloft  full  at  the  other’s  glistening  helmet.  Hitting  the 
mark  the  cruel  weapon  tore  open  the  closed  visor,  bury- 
ing its  sharp  point  in  Mithrines’  face,  hurling  him  to  the 
ground. 

“Thrust  him  through  the  throat  ere  he  regain  his  feet,” 
Clitus  cried,  seeing  his  master  throw  himself  from  his 
horse  and  rush  upon  Mithrines  with  uplifted  sword.  But 
the  latter,  lying  still,  Alexander  offered  him  no  further 
violence,  but  regaining  his  spear  sprang  lightly  on  his 
horse.  Slipping  from  his  steed  Clitus  ran  and  kissed  his 
master’s  hand,  exclaiming; 

“Eye  of  Cyclops,  but  ’twas  a pretty  fight!” 


138 


Iskander 


‘^Hasten,  Clitus,  and  see  if  you  can  do  aught  for  the 
stricken  man/’  Alexander  cried  as  he  drew  to  one  side. 

‘‘Nay,  he  does  not  merit  kindness  at  our  hands,”  the 
other  exclaimed,  with  a wry  face. 

''Overthrown,  he  is  no  longer  an  object  of  enmity. 
Hasten  to  him,  then,  as  I say,”  Alexander  answered 
sternly. 

Going  forward  as  directed,  Clitus  called  to  Bessus, 
who  knelt  beside  the  prostrate  body : 

"How  is  it  with  your  honest  friend,  oh  Persian?  Has 
he  gone  to  join  Pluto’s  gloomy  throng,  or  has  he  still 
some  breath  left  in  his  treacherous  body? 

"He  breathes  and  that  is  all  that  I can  see,”  the  other 
answered,  without  looking  up.  "Go  your  way.  I need 
you  not.” 

"But  you  are  alone  and  helpless,”  Clitus  answered,  re- 
lenting at  the  sound  of  the  other’s  melancholy  voice. 

"I  have  attendants  near  at  hand,”  the  other  answered, 
and  calling  aloud  in  the  Persian  tongue  a slave  ran  out 
from  the  shadows  of  the  forest. 

"I  thought  as  much.  Be  on  your  guard,  oh  Prince, 
for  these  people  fight  with  poisoned  arrows,”  Clitus  cried, 
springing  on  his  horse  and  releasing  his  sword. 

"Nay,  no  harm  threatens  you,”  Bessus  answered,  look- 
ing up.  "I  knew  naught  of  the  armed  man  hidden  in  the 
forest.  Nor  did  the  noble  Mithrines.  ’Twas  some  pri- 
\'ate  enemy  of  your  master  and  not  a thing  of  our  con- 
triving.” 

"A  tale  for  children’s  ears.  Come,  sweet  Prince,  let  us 
be  off,”  Clitus  exclaimed,  gathering  up  his  reins. 

Taking  their  way  toward  the  camp  they  passed  close 


139 


The  Midnight  Duel 

to  the  Persian  tents  and  doing  so  two  figures  concealed 
in  the  edge  of  the  forest  hastened  away  as  they  ap- 
proached. But  not  so  quickly  that  Roxana’s  graceful 
form  could  not  be  discerned  as  she  fled  beneath  the  over- 
hanging trees. 

“ ’Tis  the  same  with  King  and  peasant,”  Clitus  ex- 
claimed under  his  breath  as  he  saw  Alexander  start. 
“Both  fall  a shaking  at  sight  of  the  one  they  love.  Yes- 
terday this  fiery  Prince  was  like  triple  steel;  today,  he 
trembles  as  any  shepherd  might  if  his  love  shows  him 
some  favor.” 

Saying  naught  and  musing  on  what  he  had  seen,  his 
heart  filled  with  tender  emotions,  Alexander  rode  on  to 
the  camp,  where  he  found  the  pages  and  officers  awaiting 
his  return.  Waving  his  hand  in  grateful  thanks  he  en- 
tered his  tent  and,  his  armor  being  removed,  threw  him- 
self on  his  couch  to  ponder  on  the  events  of  the  day.  But 
most  of  all  upon  his  sweet  love,  Roxana,  and  the  great 
kindness  she  had  that  night  shown  him. 


CHAPTER  XII. 


OLYMPUS. 

‘^Yesterday  the  noble  and  puissant  Mitlirines  had  four 
attendants,  Lysimachus,  today  he  has  but  three,’’  Clitus 
cried  the  succeeding  morning  as  he  busied  himself  bright- 
ening his  armor  before  Alexander’s  tent. 

‘A^ou  were  ever  curious  about  small  things,  Clitus, 
and  foolishly,”  the  other  answered  coldly,  as  if  it  were  a 
weakness  he  despised. 

‘‘But  wisely  in  this  case,  old  man.” 

“Why  more  wisely  now  than  at  another  time?” 

“Because  it  is  a thing  that  concerns  the  Prince,”  Clitus 
replied,  straining  his  voice. 

“The  Prince!  How  can  the  number  of  the  Persian’s 
servants  concern  him?” 

“You  vrould  not  be  the  wiser  if  I told  you,”  the  other 
answered  dryly. 

“Tell  me,  good  Clitus,  and  judge  afterwards,”  Lysi- 
machus cried,  his  pride  aroused. 

“Oh,  ’tis  a small  matter  and  you  despise  such  foolish- 
ness.” 

“Tell  me  for  all  that,  good  Clitus.” 

“Well,”  Clitus  went  on  in  a loud  voice,  “Eumenes, 
captain  of  the  watch  guarding  the  Persian  encampment, 
reports  that  three  armed  attendants  followed  Mithrines 
and  Bessus  to  the  plain  last  night,  but  that  only  two  re- 
turned and  they  bearing  the  stricken  Mithrines.” 

(HO) 


141 


Olympus 

“Well,  what  of  it,  save  that  Mithrines  had  been 
wounded  by  the  Prince?”  Lysimachus  asked,  losing  in- 
terest in  the  story. 

“Afterwards,  the  two  attendants  left  the  camp  as  be- 
fore and  Eumenes,  being  curious  to  know  their  errand, 
followed  on.  Reaching  the  open  plain  they  stopped  be- 
side the  body  of  the  missing  man,  who  lay  outstretched 
in  the  shadow  of  the  trees.” 

“Well!  Well!” 

“Taking  up  the  body  they  carried  it  to  the  river  bank, 
and  depositing  it,  offered  up  a prayer.  Afterwards,  lift- 
ing the  body,  they  hurled  it  into  the  swift  running  stream. 
Then  a singular  thing  happened,  Lysimachus,  for  as  the 
body  shot  through  the  air,  it  uttered  a frightful  cry.” 

“The  man  was  alive!”  Lysimachus  exclaimed,  shud- 
dering. 

“So  it  appeared  to  Eumenes,  but  ere  he  could  move  or 
speak,  the  swift  current  sucked  the  body  down  into  its 
black  depths.” 

“What  did  Eumenes  do  then?” 

“Nothing,  and  why  should  he?  What  is  a follower  of 
Mithrines  more  or  less,  Lysimachus?  Moreover,  his 
orders  are  to  guard  the  Persians  and  not  meddle  with 
their  pastimes.” 

“Was  that  all?”  Lysimachus  asked,  only  half  satisfied. 

“Yes,  except  that  he  reports,  and  this  is  curious,  that 
the  attendants  of  the  noble  Mithrines  are  neither  Persians 
nor  Greeks,  but  Macedonians.” 

“Macedonians!  How  does  he  know  that?”  Lysi- 
machus rejoined,  his  curiosity  excited  anew. 

“By  their  speech,”  Clitus  replied,  yawning  as  if  tired 


142 


I skander 


of  the  subject,  “for  it  is  that  of  the  mountaineers  about 
Bermius,  so  Eumenes  reports.” 

“And  he  having  so  reported,  Clitus,”  Alexander  ex- 
claimed sternly,  emerging  from  his  tent  and  confronting 
the  gossips,  “and  you  having  now  told  it  to  Lysimachus, 
let  the  matter  go  no  further.  The  reason  does  not  matter. 
Be  silent  and  forget  that  you  have  heard  the  story,”  say- 
ing which,  he  smiled  amiably  on  his  faithful  friends  and 
fastening  his  cloak  took  his  way  to  the  Persian  encamp- 
ment. 

“ What  mishap  was  it  that  befell  the  attendant  in  the 
plain,  think  you,  Clitus?”  Lysimachus  continued  queru- 
lously, as  Alexander  disappeared. 

“Heard  you  not  what  the  Prince  said,  oh  babbler  ! 
Shame  on  you,  Lysimachus,  that  you  should  speak  of  the 
matter  further,”  and  fastening  his  cloak  about  him  as 
Alexander  had  done  he  walked  away. 

Approaching  the  Persian  encampment  Alexander 
found  Roxana  awaiting  him  at  the  entrance  to  her  tent. 
Taking  his  hands  in  hers  she  looked  in  his  face,  exclaim- 
ing as  if  in  mirth,  while  a sob  filled  her  throat : 

“Was  it  kind  in  you,  noble  Prince,  to  seek  to  mislead 
me  in  so  serious  a thing?” 

“ ’Twas  not  a serious  thing,  sweet  Princess,  nor  worth 
the  telling;  and  so  it  has  turned  out,”  he  answered  lightly, 
as  he  bent  over  her  hand  and  kissed  it. 

“ ’Twas  a danger  and  the  more  to  be  feared  because 
the  forerunner  of  others  from  the  same  hand,”  she  an- 
swered in  a troubled  voice. 

“Such  dangers  are  a part  of  the  lives  of  men,  Roxana, 
and  not  things  to  be  feared  or  brooded  over.” 


143 


Olympus 

“No!  if  they  come  from  an  open  foe.  Such  dangers 
men  boldly  face,  but  a hidden  and  treacherous  enemy! 
Who  can  hope  always  to  escape  him  when  death  may  lie 
in  every  bush  or  tree  you  pass?” 

“Men  do  not  regard  such  dangers  more  than  others, 
and  now  that  I am  forewarned,  there  is  no  further  cause 
to  fear,  sweet  Princess.” 

“I  shall  fear  for  your  life  just  the  same,  oh  Prince,  for 
women  ever  tremble  for  those  they  hold  dear,  if  by  chance 
their  lives  are  threatened.” 

“Is  it  thus  you  hold  my  life,  sweet  Princess  ?”  he  cried, 
enraptured.  “Danger,  if  it  bring  such  sweet  solace,  is 
not  a thing  to  shun,  but  to  meet  with  open  arms.” 

“Is  it  strange  that  your  life  should  be  dear  to  me,  as  it 
is  to  my  father,  after  what  has  happened  ?”  she  answered 
in  excuse.  “A  day  is  sometimes  like  a thousand  years 
in  one’s  life,  and  so  it  is  now,  in  ours.” 

“Thus  I have  thought,  for,  though  I have  known  you 
but  a day,  everything  is  changed  and  what  went  before 
is  as  if  it  were  a dream.” 

“No,  it  is  now  you  dream,  Iskander.  Tomorrow  you 
will  awake  and  smile  when  you  recall  today,”  she  an- 
swered with  mournful  cadence. 

“But  if  I should  not,  will  you  still  look  upon  me  with 
some  favor?  for  I cannot  live  otherwise.” 

“Nay,  rather  than  that  I would  promise  anything,  for 
you  know,  we  cannot  lose  our  brave  protector,”  she  an- 
swered, smiling. 

While  they  were  thus  half  confessing  their  love  Oxyar- 
tes  approached,  and  seeing  Alexander,  hastened  to  him, 
exclaiming  with  much  embarrassment  of  speech: 


144 


Iskander 


“I  have  just  come  from  your  tent,  brave  Prince,  where 
I went  to  offer  excuse  and  humble  apology  for  last  night’s 
happening.” 

“You  owe  me  neither  excuse  nor  apology,  good  friend. 
No  harm  came  from  it  and  so  it  is  a thing  already  for- 
gotten.” 

“So  brave  men  ever  treat  such  matters.  But  your  for- 
bearance does  not  lessen  the  breach  of  hospitality  and 
’tis  the  greater  shame  to  me  that  it  should  have  happened 
under  cover  and  without  my  knowledge,”  Oxyartes  an- 
swered, embracing  Alexander  in  gratitude. 

“I  held  you  blameless,  nor  could  you  be  accountable 
for  the  acts  of  others  in  this  case  more  than  in  another.” 

“You  are  generous  in  this,  oh  Prince,  as  you  are  chival- 
rous in  all  your  acts.  Were  Mithrines  amenable  to  me, 
I should  dismiss  him  within  the  hour.  But  as  it  is  I can 
only  make  humble  excuse  for  the  gross  affront.” 

“The  adventure  ending  happily,  we  are  the  better 
friends  because  of  it.  Is  it  then  a thing  to  be  regretted, 
oh  Prince?”  Alexander  answered  smiling. 

“Mithrines  was  justly  punished  for  he  can  scarce  lift 
his  head  from  his  couch.  Because  of  this,  brave  Prince, 
I come  to  ask  that  the  march  be  delayed  until  the  mor- 
row. If  he  is  then  unable  to  proceed,”  Oxyartes  went  on 
with  warmth,  “I  will  leave  him  to  his  own  devices.” 

“There  is  no  cause  for  haste,  oh  Prince,  and  I am 
glad  of  the  excuse  for  tarrying,”  Alexander  answered, 
glancing  at  Roxana.  “And  today,  being  free,  I may  go 
forward  and  make  inquiries  regarding  the  ships  that 
await  us  on  the  coast.” 

“May  we  not  keep  you  company  part  of  the  way,  oh 


145 


Olympus 

Prince?”  Roxana  asked  appealingly.  “It  would  be  better 
than  staying  here,  for  after  last  night’s  happening  the 
camp  is  hateful  to  me.” 

“I  would  have  planned  it  thus  had  I been  less  stupid, 
and  I pray,  Oxyartes,”  he  went  on,  appealing  to  the 
Bactrian  chief,  “that  you  do  as  she  requests.” 

“Nay,  brave  Prince,  I cannot  absent  myself  from  the 
camp.  But  Roxana  may  accompany  you  if  it  will  give 
her  pleasure  and  not  embarrass  you  in  any  way,”  Oxyar- 
tes answered,  kissing  his  daughter. 

“Her  going  will  inconvenience  no  one,  and  will  lessen 
the  regret  I have  at  leaving  you  behind,”  Alexander  an- 
swered courteously. 

“When  do  you  set  out  ?”  Roxana  interposed,  unable  to 
restrain  her  impatience.  “For  I already  anticipate  all  the 
happiness  of  the  excursion.” 

“In  an  hour,  if  that  be  your  pleasure.” 

“Adieu  till  then,”  she  exclaimed,  smiling  upon  him  and 
hurrying  into  her  tent. 

Returning  to  his  camp,  Alexander  rpade  all  needed 
arrangements  for  the  journey  and  the  guard  being  col- 
lected he  sprang  upon  his  horse.  Seeing  this  Lysimachus, 
who  was  not  included  in  the  company,  set  up  a doleful 
cry: 

“Am  I to  be  left  behind,  sweet  Prince,  while  others 
less  worthy  ride  by  your  side?” 

“You  are  better  here,  old  man,  for  the  journey  may 
savor  of  danger  once  the  pass  is  entered,”  Clitus  spoke 
up  impatiently. 

“Was  not  Phoenix  with  Achilles  at  the  siege  of  Troy, 
and  am  I to  be  left  behind  where  naught  threatens  save 
Clitus’  fears  ?”  Lysimachus  cried,  appealing  to  the  Prince. 


146 


Iskander 


“Let  the  good  master  go,  Clitus,  if  he  has  a mind. 
But  arm  yourself,  Lysimachus,  if  only  to  do  honor  to  the 
Princess.” 

Hastening  to  do  as  he  was  told  and  presently  all  being 
in  readiness,  they  proceeded  to  Roxana’s  tent,  where  they 
found  her  mounted  and  awaiting  their  coming.  Taking 
their  departure  without  loss  of  time,  they  soon  reached 
the  ancient  city  of  Larissa,  now  in  a state  of  great  decay 
because  of  neglect  and  the  many  wars  from  which  it  had 
suffered.  Loitering  for  a while  in  its  quaint  streets,  the 
scene  of  so  many  melancholy  tragedies,  they  journeyed 
at  last  toward  the  Vale  of  Tempe. 

“What  new  mischief  is  afoot  now,  oh  Prince?”  Clitus 
exclaimed,  riding  up  and  pointing  to  one  of  Mithrines’ 
attendants  who  was  hurrying  past.  “Eye  of  Cyclops, 
but  I have  a mind  to  run  him  down  and  send  him  to  keep 
company  with  his  fellow  meddler  in  the  swollen  river!” 
To  this  Alexander,  making  no  answer  save  to  wave  the 
other  back,  Clitus  retired  to  his  place,  muttering:  “To- 
morrow, oh  Prince,  you  may  wish  you  had  let  me  have 
my  way.” 

Reaching  the  entrance  to  the  vale  Alexander  dis- 
mounted, and  lifting  Roxana  to  the  ground,  seated  her 
on  a mossy  bank  where  she  could  view  what  lay  before 
her  undisturbed.  And  it  was  a picture,  of  which  there 
is  none  more  beautiful  or  sublime  in  all  the  wide  world. 
On  their  right  Ossa’s  massive  lieights  rose  in  the  clear 
atmosphere  like  the  uplifted  earth,  clothed  in  garments 
of  brown  and  vivid  green.  Huge  and  rugged,  with 
rounded  top,  it  resembled  some  sluggish  giant  asleep  in 


147 


Olympus 

the  warmth  of  the  summer  day.  In  front  of  them  as  they 
gazed,  the  glistening  river,  half  hidden,  stretched  its 
winding  course  toward  the  sea.  White  and  foaming, 
where  its  angry  waters  were  too  rudely  compressed  by 
the  huge  rocks  that  crowded  close  upon  its  banks,  it  be- 
came calm  as  the  tranquil  skies,  where  greater  breadth 
gave  compass  to  the  hurrying  stream.  On  its  banks 
palms  and  stately  plane-trees  spread  their  extended 
branches,  and  back  of  these  as  a setting  to  the  picture, 
olive  trees  and  vivid  evergreens  and  verdant  shrubbery 
gave  to  the  view  a sylvan  beauty. 

On  the  left,  Olympus  rising  abruptly,  appeared  in  its 
steep  and  towering  height,  as  if  about  to  topple  into  the 
slumbering  vale.  On  the  bank  of  the  river,  about  the 
base  of  the  great  mountain,  solitary  cliffs,  emulous  of 
each  other’s  height,  projected  their  castellated  towers, 
like  stately  sentinels,  far  into  the  unclouded  sky.  Around 
the  foot  of  the  uplifted  mountain,  and  as  a fringe,  huge 
oaks,  old  and  moss  grown,  raised  their  sturdy  strength. 
Further  on  in  the  vast  stretches  and  gloomy  canyons  of  the 
solemn  height,  dense  foliage  clung  in  luxuriant  masses 
to  its  rugged  sides.  Above  this  a forest  of  pine  trees, 
black  and  ominous,  enveloped  the  mountain  side  as  with  a 
pall.  Here  the  soft  verdure  of  the  earth  ceased  its  growth 
as  if,  having  reached  the  farthest  limit  of  productive  life, 
naught  else  remained.  Above  the  band  of  sombre  pine 
trees,  great  masses  of  crumbling  granite,  wrought  in 
every  fantastic  form,  supported  the  snow-clad  summit 
of  the  mountain.  This  last,  seen  in  the  crystal  atmos- 
phere against  the  deep  blue  of  the  far-off  sky,  seemed  to 
float  rather  than  rest  in  the  ambient  air.  Such  is  and 


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Iskander 


v/as  Olympus,  rising  stern  and  threatening  ten  thousand 
feet  from  the  picturesque  vale  beneath.  Not  like  other 
mountains,  but  seemingly  alive,  listening  and  watching, 
as  if  husbanding  the  secrets  of  the  mighty  Gods  who  for 
ages  unknown  watched  the  doings  of  men  from  its  mys- 
terious heights. 

‘Is  it  amid  these  solitudes  and  soaring  heights,’’  Rox- 
ana exclaimed,  as  they  sat  still,  looking  with  awe  upon 
the  great  mountain,  “that  the  Gods  of  your  country 
dwell?” 

“Yes.  Mighty  Zeus,  and  about  him  other  and  lesser 
deities  who  respond  to  his  all  powerful  will,”  Alexander 
replied  in  a low  voice,  as  if  the  listening  Gods  heard  all 
he  said. 

“Do  they  control  all  things?”  she  asked,  wonderingly, 
as  if  believing  what  he  said  might  indeed  be  true. 

“Yes,  and  as  they  are  pleased  or  angered  the  affairs  of 
men  prosper  or  go  to  ruin.” 

“If  they  be  angered,  how  do  you  propitiate  them?”  she 
asked  with  curious  interest. 

“By  invocations  and  sacrifices  and  the  keeping  of  the 
observances  they  require  of  mortals.” 

“If  they  be  not  propitious,  how  do'  they  make  their 
anger  known?”  she  queried,  gazing  with  awe  upon  the 
mighty  mountain. 

“In  many  ways,  sweet  Princess.  By  the  misfortunes 
that  befall  us;  by  signs  and  omens;  the  troubled  sky,  the 
thundering  and  lightning  that  accompany  the  storm. 
Each  has  a message  of  love  or  admonition.  The  en- 
trails of  animals  tell  a story  to  those  who'  read  them 
aright,  and  the  flight  of  birds  not  less.  This  morning  as 


149 


Olympus 

I sacrificed  to  Apollo,  an  eagle,  the  emblem  of  my  house, 
hovering  for  a while  above  the  camp,  at  last  took  its  up- 
ward flight  and  so  was  lost  to  view ; and  from  this  I know 
that  whatever  befalls  me  or  those  I love,  no  harm  will 
follow.” 

“Then  returning  to  the  camp  I may  rest  secure,  know- 
ing that  no  peril  threatens  you,”  she  answered  soberly, 
believing  all  he  said,  so  much  are  we  impressed  by  love 
and  the  mighty  forces  of  nature. 

“Yes,  though  I hold  danger  sweet,  if  through  it  I gain 
greater  favor  in  your  eyes,”  he  answered,  caressing  her 
hand. 

“It  were  a cruel  thing  to  exact  such  services  for  a thing 
of  so  little  value.  You  need  no  such  venture,  you  know 
full  well,  oh  Prince,  to  find  favor  in  my  eyes,”  she  an- 
swered, the  color  deepening  in  her  fair  face. 

“Oh  heavenly  Princess,  sweetest  of  women!  what 
witchcraft  have  you  wrought  that  I should  have  but  one 
impulse,  one  hope,  one  thought,  and  that  to  please  you,” 
he  answered,  his  face  and  eyes  aflame  with  the  passion 
that  consumed  him. 

“It  is  but  a fancy,  born  of  our  strange  meeting  and  the 
romance  of  the  peaceful  plain  and  towering  mountains. 
In  a little  while  you  will  find  me  not  more  to  your  liking 
than  other  women;  and  this,  I fear,  ere  I have  been  a 
week  at  Pella.” 

“Speak  not  of  Pella,”  Alexander  answered,  a cloud 
passing  over  his  face.  “The  thought  of  its  hates,  its 
sycophants,  its  waiting  intrigues,  sends  a chill  to  my 
heart.  Here  I am  free  to  do  as  I will,  and  here,  beneath 
Zeus’  watchful  eyes,”  he  went  on,  rising  and  extending 


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Iskander 


his  arms  toward  the  mighty  mountain,  “I  swear  to  be 
ever  thus  in  all  my  heart’s  desire.” 

“What  is  your  heart’s  desire,  sweet  Prince?”  Roxana 
asked  softly,  awed  by  the  solemnity  of  his  oath  to  tlie  lis- 
tening God,  yet  wishing  to  lead  him  on. 

“Your  love,  sweet  woman,  and  naught  beside.  All 
else  is  but  as  gilding  to  the  golden  chain  that  binds  me  to 
you.  Nay!  turn  not  away  your  sweet  face,  Roxana,  but 
let  me  read  some  ray  of  hope  in  your  soft  eyes,”  and, 
grasping  her  hands,  he  would  have  thrown  himself  upon 
his  knees  had  she  not  held  him  fast. 

Raising  his  hands  to  her  lips,  she  kissed  them,  answer- 
ing, scarce  above  her  breath : 

“I  love  you,  sweet  Iskander,  so  brave  and  gentle  and 
true.” 

Filled  with  indescribable  rapture,  he  put  his  arms  about 
her  and,  drawing  her  to  him,  kissed  her  again  and  again 
in  all  the  happiness  of  loving  and  being  loved. 

“Now  you  are  mine,  sweet  love,  in  sight  of  all  the 
Gods  who  hear  our  sacred  vows.  Nor  shall  any  power 
less  great  sever  the  bonds  of  love  that  bind  us  to  each 
other.” 

“You  forget,  Iskander,  that  I am  Persian  and  you  are 
Greek,  and  that  between  our  people  there  is  deadly 
hatred,”  she  answered,  a cloud  darkening  her  eyes. 

“I  care  not,  sweet  Roxana.  We  wage  not  war  on 
women,  and  our  Kings  have  ever  wed  whom  their  hearts 
desired.” 

“Yotir  Kings!  What  mean  you  by  such  speech,  Iskan- 
der? Are  you  not  what  you  seem,  a simple  Prince?”  she 
cried,  with  agitated  voice. 


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Olympus 

“No,  sweet  love,  not  what  I have  appeared,  but  Alex- 
ander, Philip’s  son.  Nay,  if  you  turn  from  me  thus,  I 
will  disown  the  tie  nor  ever  own  it  more.  I did  but  de- 
ceive you  for  a while,  dear  heart,  that  I might  be  free 
like  other  men.  But  now,  having  won  your  love  as  a 
simple  Prince,  I will  as  Alexander,  nourish  it  forever.” 

“Not  Iskander,  but  Alexander,  heir  to  the  mighty 
King  that  Persia  fears !”  she  murmured  after  a while,  the 
tears  that  glistened  in  her  eyes  showing  all  too  plainly 
her  deep  regret. 

“To  you  I am  Iskander,  the  simple  Prince  you  loved, 
and  nothing  more;  and  thus  it  shall  ever  be.” 

“But  the  King,  the  mighty  King!  And  your  mother! 
They  will  kill  me  ere  they  permit  so  strange  an  alliance,” 
she  replied,  hiding  her  face. 

“My  mother  loves  me  above  all  things  on  earth  and 
will  approve  all  I do.  The  King  may  not  oppose,  but 
whatever  he  may  do  or  say  it  will  not  change  my  purpose 
to  make  you  my  wife  and  Queen,”  he  answered  sternly. 

“O  why  did  I not  know  that  you  were  Alexander! 
The  King  will  cast  you  off  and  I will  have  been  the  cause. 
No,  no!  Iskander,  sweet  Iskander,  I love  you  too  much 
to  betray  you  thus,”  she  cried,  the  tears  streaming  down 
her  pale  face. 

“No  such  thing  can  come  of  it,  sweet  love.  I am 
rightful  heir,  and  while  loyal  to  the  King,  I will  reign 
when  he  is  dead,  were  a thousand  Kings  to  say  the  con- 
trary,” he  exclaimed,  with  flaming  eyes. 

“Is  it  you,  Iskander,  so  gentle  and  loving  to  me,  of 
whom  all  men  talk  since  Cheronea?”  she  answered  with 


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Iskander 


sorrowing  voice.  “Can  you  be  Alexander?”  she  went 
on,  as  if  unable  to  think  of  him  save  as  Iskander. 

“Yes,  to  all  save  you.  It  is  as  Alexander  that  the  army 
and  people  know  me,  and  ’tis  as  such  they  believe  me 
fitted  to  govern  and  lead  them  to  new  conquests;  and 
because  of  it  I shall  be  free  to  choose  my  Queen,  as  I shall, 
when  King,  be  free  to  shape  my  destiny.” 

“But  you  may  be  cut  off  in  a night  by  those  you  thwart. 
How  often  it  has  happened  thus  in  Susa,”  she  sorrow- 
fully replied. 

“In  such  peril  Princes  ever  pass  their  lives.  It  is  their 
destiny.  Nor  will  my  loving  you  add  to  the  danger.  So 
smile  upon  me,  sweet  being,  and  dismiss  your  fears,  for 
from  this  hour  our  hearts  and  fortunes  are  forever  one,” 
and,  pulling  her  face  to  him,  he  sought  to  dry  her  tears 
with  his  fervent  kisses. 

“I  cannot  deny  my  heart,  sweet  Iskander.  My  love 
went  out  to  you  when  your  upturned  face,  shining  upon 
me,  beamed  confidence  and  strength  in  the  midst  of  the 
fierce  Theban  soldiers,”  she  exclaimed,  throwing  her  arms 
about  his  neck. 

“May  the  Gods  favor  the  outlaws  who  thus  gave  me 
opportunity  to  win  your  love,”  Alexander  answered,  re- 
turning her  caress.  “But  see,  my  sweet,  how  low  the 
sun.  While  we  have  lingered  in  such  sweet  dalliance  the 
day  has  passed.  Now  ’tis  time  that  you  returned  and  I 
went  forward  on  my  errand.” 

“Nay,  return  with  me,  Iskander.  Or  take  the  guard, 
for  I need  no  one  but  Clitus,”  she  answered,  looking  down 
on  the  sleeping  valley,  bathed  in  the  fast  lengthening 
shadows  of  the  mountains. 


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Olympus 

“No,  sweet  one.  It  is  but  a half-hour’s  ride  and  I shall 
reach  the  ships  ere  the  sun  has  set,”  Alexander  answered, 
and  lifting  the  trumpet  that  hung  at  his  side,  he  signaled 
Clitus  to  bring  up  the  waiting  escort.  “Form  your  guard 
about  the  Princess,  good  Clitus,”  he  went  on  as  the  lat- 
ter approached,  “and  return  without  stop,  for  it  will  be 
dark  ere  you  reach  the  camp.” 

“You  will  not  go  on  unattended  at  this  late  hour?” 
Clitus  exclaimed,  looking  down  with  anxious  eyes  into 
the  slumbering  valley. 

“Why  not,  brave  friend?  One  might  venture  without 
spear  or  buckler,  but  armed,  what  have  I to  fear?”  he 
answered  lightly,  as  he  helped  Roxana  to  her  horse. 
“Adieu,  till  tomorrow,  sweet  love,”  he  whispered  in 
parting,  bending  over  and  kissing  her  hand.  Then  mo- 
tioning Clitus  to  proceed,  he  stood  still,  watching  his  love 
until  the  intervening  ground  hid  her  form  from  view. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 


FOR  THE  KING. 

Lysimachus,  detaching  himself  from  the  group  of  offi- 
cers and  pages  who  patiently  awaited  Alexander’s  move- 
ments, had  long  since  set  out  alone  to  make  his  way  to  the 
waiting  ships.  Going  forward  he,  ever  and  anon,  in  fer- 
vid fancy,  fixed  his  spear  as  he  bore  an  imaginary  adver- 
sary to  the  ground,  or,  drawing  his  sword,  cut  down  some 
enemy  who  menaced  him.  Thus  he  went  on,  greatly 
pleased  with  himself,  when  suddenly  he  was  startled  mid- 
way of  the  vale,  by  an  armed  horseman,  who  emerged 
from  the  shrubbery  that  bordered  the  picturesque  road. 
Alarmed,  he  would  have  fled,  but  the  other  threatening 
him,  cried  out : 

“Stay,  spear-shaft,  ere  I dull  my  lance  on  your  shining 
armor !” 

Standing  still,  the  face  of  the  frightened  pedagogue 
lengthened  and  paled  beneath  his  glistening  helmet.  But 
the  other  offering  him  no  harm,  he  cried  out  at  last,  with 
some  show  of  courage  and  strength  of  voice : 

“How  now,  knave!  Dare  you  stop  the  King’s  mes- 
senger ! Make  way  ere  I run  you  through,”  saying  which 
he  struck  his  lance  with  fierce  vehemence  against  his  re- 
sounding shield. 

“Softly,  Elongus,”  the  other  cried  derisively.  “Dull 
not  your  armor  with  self-inflicted  blows,  but  come  with 
me,  and  peacefully,  lest  harm  befall  you.” 

(164) 


155 


For  the  King 

“Out  upon  you,  rogue!  I am  the  Prince’s  tutor  and 
companion,  and  to  stay  me  is  to  call  his  kingly  wrath 
down  on  your  knavish  head,”  Lysimachus  exclaimed, 
his  courage  rising  as  the  other  made  no  move  to  attack 
him. 

“Cimmerian  Gods,  but  your  master  must  be  a brave 
Prince  to  need  such  guidance!  Come,  yield,  Elongus,  ere 
I spit  your  bowels  with  my  lance,  as  one  would  open  a 
clam’s  mouth,”  the  robber  cried,  lifting  his  spear  as  if 
about  to  charge. 

“Nay!  You  dare  not,  for,  know  you,  I am  Phoenix 
and  wait  upon  the  living  Achilles.  So  give  me  humble 
leave  to  pass,  for  friends  await  me  further  on,”  Lysima- 
chus replied  with  quavering  voice. 

“If  you  are  Phoenix,  I am  Bilbo,  the  Pishwar,  a sheep 
man  from  a cattle  country.  I serve  no  stripling  master, 
know  you,  but  Ossa,  King  of  the  mountain-side  and 
spreading  plain.  Yield,  then,  ere  I run  you  through,”  he 
cried,  gathering  up  his  reins. 

“Nay,  good  Bilbo,  pretty  man,”  Lysimachus  replied 
with  timorous  voice,  “there  is  no  such  King,  but  rather 
this  peaceful  mountain,” 

“What,  wretch!  dost  deny  my  King  after  whom  the 
mountain  was  named!  Guard  yourself,  for  I am  on 
you!”  and  clashing  his  armor  he  spurred  full  upon  the 
cowering  Lysimachus.  But  the  latter,  making  no  move 
to  defend  himself.  Bilbo  drew  rein,  crying  in  scorn : “Is 
it  thus,  Elongus,  that  you  teach  your  Prince  how  to  fight ! 
Come,  then,  with  me.  With  training,  you  will  make  a 
cook  for  a real  King,”  and,  taking  Lysimachus’  spear 
from  his  trembling  hands,  the  outlaw  grasped  the  reins  of 


156 


Iskander 


his  horse,  and  turning  abruptly  from  the  road  was  in  a 
moment  hidden  by  the  dense  foliage. 

Alexander,  ignorant  of  his  tutor’s  mishap,  followed 
the  winding  road,  unconscious  of  everything,  save  that 
he  loved  and  was  beloved.  Thus  half  the  sylvan  vale  was 
traversed  when,  coming  at  last  upon  a grassy  spot,  he 
saw  before  him  a horseman  of  gigantic  stature,  fully 
armed,  sitting  at  ease  as  if  expecting  his  coming.  Awak- 
ened to  life,  Alexander,  stopping  his  horse,  awaited  the 
other’s  movements.  Seeing  this  the  stranger  spurred  into 
the  open  and,  courteously  saluting  him,  cried,  as  he 
raised  his  heavy  shield : 

“Throw  down  your  arms  and  yield,  oh  stranger,  or  dare 
the  chances  of  open  combat  and  doing  so  lose  your  life!’’ 

“Have  I no  hope,  then,  think  you,  in  such  encounter?’’ 
Alexander  cried,  entertained,  saluting  the  other  in  return. 

“No  one  who  disputes  with  me  in  battle  ever  lives  to 
tell  of  the  encounter,”  the  other  replied  with  amiable  con- 
descension. 

“Who  are  you  who  dares  boast  of  his  strength  in  pres- 
ence of  the  mighty  Gods?”  Alexander  cried  impatiently. 

“Ossa!  King  of  the  rugged  mountain  and  lord  of  the 
peaceful  vale,”  the  other  exclaimed  in  response  without 
making  any  move. 

“Own  rather  to  the  title  of  robber  and  outlaw,  and 
being  such  I will  kill  you  in  the  King’s  name,  according 
to  his  express  command,”  Alexander  cried,  putting  his 
lance  in  rest. 

“Nay,  be  not  in  such  haste  to  lose  your  life,  but  yield 
peacefully,  as  did  the  boasting  Pheenix  scarce  half  an 
hour  ago.” 


157 


For  the  King 

“What!  Have  you  snared  that  harmless  old  man? 
He  who  never  harmed  man  or  beast?”  Alexander  cried, 
hlled  with  surprise  and  rage. 

“Yes,  and  the  good  man  is  now  peacefully  cooking  my 
supper,  which,  indeed,  you  may  share  ere  the  vale  is  black 
with  night,  if  you  will,”  the  robber  answered  carelessly, 
thinking  the  other  would  yield,  and  caring  little  whether 
he  did  or  no. 

“By  the  Gods  who  look  down  on  us  from  yonder 
heights,”  Alexander  cried  in  rage,  “if  he  be  cook  he  shall 
have  no  other  carcass  but  thine  to  turn  upon  his  spit,”  and 
lowering  his  spear,  he  rushed  upon  his  huge  foe. 

“Well,  if  you  will,  vain  man,”  the  robber  cried  in 
derision,  lifting  his  shield  and  leisurely  fixing  his  lance, 
as  if  despising  the  other’s  onslaught. 

Rushing  forward  and  guiding  Bucephalus  with  his 
knees,  Alexander  held  his  spear  as  if  meditating  a direct 
attack,  but  nearing  his  huge  adversary,  he  turned  to  one 
side  and  thus  his  lance,  passing  the  other’s  guard,  struck 
the  robber  full  upon  his  mailed  breast.  But  uselessly,  for 
it  did  no  other  harm  than  to  stir  the  angered  outlaw,  in 
his  firm  seat.  Uttering  a hoarse  cry,  the  robber  whirled 
to  strike  his  enemy  down,  but  Alexander,  evading  the 
stroke,  circled  the  glade,  awaiting  a more  favorable  open- 
ing. Thus  the  unequal  combat  continued,  Alexander  los- 
ing no  chance  to  attack  his  enemy,  while  evading  the 
thrust  of  the  robber’s  mighty  spear.  Worn  at  last  with 
the  effort  to  reach  the  Prince  with  his  ponderous  weapon, 
the  outlaw  stood  still,  eyeing  the  other  and  awaiting  his 
attack.  Impatient  to  end  the  struggle,  Alexander,  re^ 
treating  to  the  utmost  limit  of  the  glade,  turned  and  urg- 


158 


I skander 


ing  his  horse  with  voice  and  spur,  again  fiercely  assailed 
his  enemy ; but  the  outlaw  upholding  his  great  buckler,  the 
Prince’s  lance  piercing  the  shield  to  the  core,  was  splin- 
tered in  his  hand.  Interposing  his  shield  the  outlaw’s 
savage  stroke,  which  quickly  followed,  glanced  upward 
and  so  flew  harmless  above  the  Prince’s  head.  Drawing 
his  sword  Alexander,  furious  with  rage,  closed  with  his 
stalwart  foe,  giving  him  no  further  chance  to  use  his 
long  and  heavy  spear.  At  this  the  robber,  dropping  his 
lance,  drew  his  sword,  and  thus  with  clash  of  weapons 
and  flash  of  fire,  whirling  and  circling,  each  sought  an 
opening  to  strike  the  other  down.  Drawing  apart  for  a 
moment,  impatient,  they  closed  anew,  their  weapons  flash- 
ing as  they  clashed  in  mid-air  or  fell  with  resounding 
blows  upon  the  mailed  armor  or  uplifted  shield  of  the 
other. 

“Thou  game  cock!’’  the  robber  cried  at  last,  beating 
down  Alexander’s  defense  and  raising  his  ponderous 
blade  high  in  air,  brought  it  down  with  a mighty  stroke 
full  upon  the  Prince’s  glistening  helmet.  Stunned  by  the 
blow,  Alexander  drew  back,  but  quickly  regaining  his 
strength,  threw  himself  with  redoubled  fury  upon  his  un- 
harmed foe.  Beating  down  Alexander’s  defense  anew, 
the  outlaw  raised  his  weapon,  but  Alexander  observing 
the  movement,  interposed  his  sword  to  stay  the  stroke. 
Descending  with  lightning  speed,  the  massive  blade  of 
the  outlaw  broke  the  lighter  weapon  of  Alexander  short 
off  in  his  hand. 

Believing  the  victory  now  assured,  the  robber  rushed 
forward  with  a fierce  cry  to  finish  the  combat  with  a 
stroke;  but  Alexander  evading  the  onslaught,  released  his 


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For  the  King 

battle-ax,  and  circling  the  plain,  charged  anew  at  headlong 
speed,  full  upon  his  invincible  enemy.  At  this  Bucepha- 
lus, as  if  conscious  of  his  master’s  danger,  responding 
to  the  Prince’s  voice,  lifted  his  feet  high  in  air  as  he 
approached,  and  plunging  forward,  fell  like  a thunderbolt 
on  the  smaller  steed  of  the  robber  chief,  crushing  it  to  the 
ground.  His  enemy  thus  exposed,  Alexander  raised  his 
battle-ax  and  with  a mighty  stroke  felled  the  robber  to 
the  ground.  Springing  from  his  horse,  he  beat  down 
with  blow  on  blow  the  other’s  upraised  shield,  and  so  at 
last  had  him  at  his  mercy.  Seeing  this  the  robber  king, 
unable  to  offer  further  defense,  released  his  shield  and, 
lying  motionless,  awaited  the  cruel  stroke.  Observing  his 
adversary’s  brave  demeanor,  Alexander,  holding  his  bat- 
tle-ax aloft,  cried  out  in  pity: 

“Yield,  oh  King!  For  you  deserve  a title  no  less  ex- 
alted.” 

“Nay;  kill  me,  brave  man,  for  I,  a Prince  in  my  own 
country,  resisting  Philip  and  all  his  army,  may  not  sur- 
render to  one  of  less  royal  blood.” 

“If  that  be  all  you  ask,  brave  Prince,  then  yield,  for  I 
am  of  no  less  royal  blood  than  Philip.” 

“Then  you  are  Alexander?  Or  Amyntas,  Perdiccas’ 
son?”  the  robber  exclaimed,  staring  upward  in  astonish- 
ment at  his  chivalrous  foe. 

“I  am  Alexander,  Philip’s  son,”  the  Prince  answered, 
looking  with  admiring  eyes  on  his  prostrate  enemy. 

“Then  I may  yield  without  dishonor.  For  he  who 
overthrew  the  Theban  army  may  well  beat  down  the 
strength  of  a single  arm,”  the  robber  answered  with 
cheerful  voice,  rising  to  his  feet. 


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I skander 


“It  was  not  I who  overcame  you,  courageous  man, 
but  my  brave  horse.  Responding  to  a trick  I have  taught 
him,  though  not  with  any  serious  thought,  lifting  his 
body,  he  bore  you  to  the  ground,”  Alexander  answered, 
placing  his  face  against  that  of  Bucephalus’  in  tender 
caress. 

“He  more  resembled  a dragon  than  living  horse,  oh 
Prince.  For  as  he  came  on,  high-uplifted,  his  bloodshot 
eyes  blazing  through  the  covering  of  his  head,  appeared 
as  though  a demon  threatened  me,”  Ossa  answered,  eye- 
ing Bucephalus  as  if  still  having  doubt  of  his  identity. 

“How  does  it  happen,  brave  man?”  the  Prince  re- 
sponded, viewing  Ossa’s  stalwart  form  and  noble  coun- 
tenance, “that  you  follow  so  base  a calling  when  honor- 
able service  at  arms  only  awaits  the  asking?” 

“The  chief  of  a captive  tribe,”  Ossa  answered,  in  a 
melancholy  voice,  “I  fled  with  the  remnant  of  my  peo- 
ple to  avoid  death  or  slavery,  and  so  honorable  employ- 
ment being  denied  me,  I became  a robber  and  outlaw,  as 
you  see.” 

“Such  has  been  the  fate  of  many,”  the  Prince  answered 
v/ith  sympathetic  voice,  “but  now,  brave  man,  I offer  you 
freedom  and  honorable  service  in  the  King’s  army  if  you 
care  to  change  your  mode  of  life.” 

“Do  you  speak  in  truth,  oh  Prince,  or  only  to  try  me?” 
the  other  asked,  as  if  doubting  what  he  heard. 

“In  truth,  brave  man,  and  all  who  follow  you  may  find 
like  service  if  they  will.” 

“I  accept  the  gracious  offer  for  myself  and  my  com- 
])anions,”  Ossa  cried  in  quick  response,  his  countenance 
lighting  up  with  a noble  ambition. 


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For  the  King 

“But  may  you  pledge  thus  unreservedly,  those  who  fol- 
low you?”  Alexander  asked,  surprised. 

“Yes,  for  it  is  a part  of  our  tribal  life  that  he  who  over- 
comes the  head  shall  rule  in  his  place,  all  yielding  obedi- 
ence to  his  successor.  You,  having  conquered,  now  be- 
come chief  of  right,  and  so  may  do  as  you  please.” 

Astonished  at  what  he  heard,  Alexander  asked  the 
number  and  whereabouts  of  the  band,  for  of  man  or  horse 
there  was  no  sign. 

“I  know  not  their  present  number,  oh  Prince,  but  they 
await  my  coming  in  our  secure  retreat  far  up  the  moun- 
tain side,”  Ossa  answered,  gazing  on  the  rugged  heights 
above  them. 

“If  that  be  so,  then  let  us  lose  no  time  in  seeking  them,” 
Alexander  cried  in  response,  springing  upon  his  horse. 

Taking  their  way  without  further  speech  beneath  the 
overhanging  trees,  they  presently  began  the  ascent  of  the 
mountain,  now  so  obscured  by  the  gathering  darkness 
that  the  path  was  not  discernible  to  one  less  familiar  with 
the  ground  than  Ossa.  Climbing  the  steep  ascent,  they 
followed  the  obscure  way,  black  with  the  shadows  of 
night,  until,  at  last,  they  reached  an  open  space  on  the 
border  of  a mountain  stream.  Uttering  a peculiar  cry,  a 
follower  of  the  outlaw  hastened  forward  in  answer  to 
the  summons.  Giving  him  his  reins  Ossa  exclaimed, 
turning  to  Alexander : 

“We  must  leave  our  animals  here,  brave  Prince,  for 
only  men  or  savage  beasts  can  climb  the  fierce  ascent. 
Nor  need  you  fear,”  he  went  on,  as  he  observed  Alexan- 
der’s reluctance  to  leave  Bucephalus  behind.  “This 


1G2 


I skander 


trusted  man  will  care  for  your  horse  as  if  he  were  the 
King’s  groom.” 

Caressing  his  steed  with  word  and  hand,  as  if  parting 
from  a cherished  friend,  Alexander  followed  on  in  Ossa’s 
steps.  Going  forward  with  labored  effort,  amid  the 
stunted  oaks  and  dense  shrubbery  that  clung  to  the  moun- 
tain side,  the  path  presently  emerged  upon  the  broad  sur- 
face of  a granite  rock.  Looking  down,  Alexander  could 
plainly  discern  the  deep  valley,  while  above,  the  summit 
of  the  mountain  top  was  clearly  outlined  against  the 
moonlit  sky.  At  the  further  extremity  of  the  wide  ter- 
race a cave  opened  on  the  mountain  side  and  here,  to 
Alexander’s  surprise,  lights  were  to  be  seen  and  men 
engaged  cleaning  their  weapons,  or  busily  preparing  the 
evening  meal.  Stopping  at  the  entrance  the  chief  ut- 
tered a shrill  cry,  whereupon,  each  grasping  his  weapon, 
hastened  to  group  themselves  about  him  as  if  some  press- 
ing danger  threatened. 

“Have  you  brought  us  Achilles  to  assist  the  brave  and 
learned  Phoenix?”  one  of  the  most  forward  and  repulsive 
of  the  robbers  exclaimed,  going  close  to  Alexander  and 
scanning  him  in  the  uncertain  light. 

“No,  Prado;  I have  brought  you  a chief  instead,”  Ossa 
answered  quietly. 

“A  chief !”  the  outlaws  exclaimed,  some  in  amazement, 
others  with  incredulous  voices. 

“Yes,  according  to  the  ancient  laws  of  our  tribe.  For 
he  overcame  your  chief  in  fair  fight,  and  having  him  at 
liis  mercy  might  have  killed  him  had  he  been  so  in- 
clined,” Ossa  exclaimed,  turning  and  saluting  Alexander. 


163 


For  the  King 

“What  did  he  instead?”  Prado'  queried  with  gloomy 
brow,  as  if  regretting  Alexander’s  clemency. 

“He  offered  me  service  in  King  Philip’s  army  and  I 
accepting,  he  comes  to  make  like  offer  to  you,  who  now 
owe  him  obedience  as  your  chief,”  Ossa  answered  with 
animation,  casting  his  eyes  over  his  followers. 

“Service  in  Philip’s  army!  Food  for  Theban  crows! 
No,  no;  we  will  have  none  of  it!”  Prado  answered  scorn- 
fully, waving  his  hand  toward  his  companions  who  stood 
staring,  not  knowing  what  to  make  of  it  all. 

“What  he  wills,  Prado,  you  must  do.  ‘Power  to  the 
Strongest!’  Such  is  our  oath  and  the  sacred  law  of  our 
tribe,”  Ossa  answered  sternly. 

“He  overcome  you  by  some  trick,  not  in  fair  combat. 
He  is  not  stronger  or  braver  than  I,  and  so  I will  not 
yield  him  obedience  now,  or  at  any  time,”  Prado  cried  in 
scorn. 

“No  one  shall  follow  me  except  of  his  free  will.  The 
King  will  have  no  traitors  or  cowards  in  his  army,”  Alex- 
ander cried  with  ringing  voice,  incensed  at  the  other’s 
arrogance. 

“Go  your  way;  you  will  find  no  followers  here.  For 
we  are  free,  not  slaves,  to  be  traded  like  Thracian  mer- 
cenaries or  Macedonian  cattle,”  Prado  cried  in  response, 
looking  about  him. 

“Who  made  you  leader,  Prado,  to  speak  for  others?” 
Ossa  cried  with  stern  displeasure.  “But  come,  my  com- 
rades,” he  went  on,  with  more  amiable  voice,  “hungry 
men  know  not  what  is  for  their  good.  Let  us  eat  and 
sleep  and  tomorrow  determine  our  minds.  You,  brave 
Prince,  shall  abide  with  us  till  then;  for  you  could  not,  if 


164 


Iskander 


you  would,  descend  the  mountain  side  tonight.  Share 
with  us  our  food,  and  if  it  is  less  dainty  than  the  King’s 
it  will  nourish  you  none  the  less.” 

Leading  the  Prince  within  the  cave,  a vaulted  room 
lighted  with  pots  of  flaming  pitch  met  his  gaze,  its  rough 
walls  blackened  with  age  and  smoke.  In  its  further  ex- 
tremity fires  burned,  and  about  them  men  busied  them- 
selves preparing  the  evening  meal.  Some  were  baking 
bread  on  the  live  coals  while  others  turned  the  spits 
whereon  were  savory  pieces  of  beef  or  game  of  different 
kinds.  Near  these-and  with  his  face  buried  in  his  hands, 
Alexander  espied  Lysimachus,  overcome  with  grief  and 
unconscious  of  all  that  had  been  said  or  done.  Going 
to  him,  he  put  his  arms  about  the  old  man’s  neck,  saying 
in  a coaxing  voice : 

“Cheer  up,  good  master,  your  Prince  has  come  to  share 
your  company  and  take  you  hence.” 

Hearing  his  voice  Lysimachus  lifted  his  head  and, 
seeing  Alexander,  he  arose  tottering  to  his  feet,  but,  over- 
come with  grief,  fell  sobbing  and  trembling  into  the 
Prince’s  arms. 

“Has  my  brave  Achilles,  my  baby,  been  overcome  by 
the  base  wretches?  Oh  sorry  the  hour,  my  master,  that 
we  parted  from  Clitus  and  the  brave  Companions !” 

“Nay,  I come  not  as  a captive,  but  the  guest  of  these 
sturdy  men,  good  Lysimachus,”  the  Prince  answered  re- 
assuringly, “and  so  you  are  free  to  return  to  your  com- 
panions when  and  how  you  like.” 

“How  can  that  be,  and  you  here,  and  alone?”  the  other 
answered,  seeing  none  of  Alexander’s  followers. 

“It  is  enough  that  I tell  you  so.  Dry  your  tears,  and 


165 


For  the  King 

tomorrow  ere  the  sun  is  an  hour  high  you  shall  be  once 
more  with  your  friends.” 

Supper  being  now  prepared,  all  partook  of  the  abun- 
dant fare,  and  afterwards,  a bed  of  fragrant  boughs  being 
made  ready  for  Alexander  and  Lysimachus,  they  lost  no 
time  in  seeking  the  restful  couch. 

With  the  first  glimpse  of  day,  the  bustle  and  prepara- 
tion of  the  previous  evening  commenced  anew.  But  soon, 
the  morning  meal  being  served  and  quickly  eaten.  Ossa 
summoned  his  followers  to  the  wide-spreading  rock,  cry- 
ing, so  that  all  might  hear ; 

“Yesterday,  my  comrades,  in  open  field  and  fair  com- 
bat, as  I have  told  you,  this  brave  Prince  overthrew  me 
and  held  me  at  his  mercy.  Defeated,  I yielded  leadership 
to  him  as  his  of  right.  Now,  as  our  chief,  he  offers  us 
absolvence  and  honorable  service  in  the  King’s  army. 
Through  which  freedom,  if  the  Gods  so  will  it,”  he  went 
on  with  melancholy  voice,  “we  may  reclaim  our  wives  and 
children  from  servitude  and  slavery.  Thus  we  shall  es- 
cape our  wearisome  and  degraded  life  which  has  no  end- 
ing save  death  or  slavery.  Trusting  the  brave  and  chival- 
rous Prince,  I place  myself  by  his  side  and  appeal  to  you, 
my  companions  and  kinsmen,  to  do  the  same,”  and  con- 
cluding, Ossa,  with  flushed  face,  fell  back  beside  the 
Prince,  who  stood  gazing  on  the  strange  scene  with  curi- 
ous and  attentive  eyes. 

To  this  appeal  there  was  no  movement  or  word  of  re- 
sponse, each  man  standing  still,  looking  steadfastly  at 
Prado  as  if  seeking  his  advice.  At  last,  and  with  seem- 
ing reluctance,  the  disaffected  outlaw,  responding  to  the 
call,  slowly  pushed  his  way  to  the  front  of  the  gaping 


166 


Iskander 


throng.  Looking  to  those  about  him  for  approval,  and 
then  turning  his  gaze  on  Ossa,  he  cried,  in  bitter  scorn : 

“Whether  the  Prince  conquered  in  fair  fight,  or  failing 
that,  bewitched  you,  matters  not.  He  is  not  the  strongest 
as  you  say,  and  he  who  would  rule  must  prove  his  worth, 
where  all  may  see  and  judge.  Is  not  that  the  law  ? Could 
there  be  any  other  ?”  he  concluded,  turning  confidently  to 
those  about  him. 

“Yes,  yes.  If  he  be  the  strongest  let  him  prove  it,” 
they  responded  with  one  voice,  striking  their  weapons. 

“Who  is  there  among  you  who  will  do  battle  for 
supremacy  already  fairly  won?”  Ossa  answered,  as  if  in 
apology  for  their  mutiny,  his  face  black  with  rage. 

“I!  And  overcoming  him,  will  rule  in  your  place,” 
Prado  cried,  eyeing  Alexander  with  derisive  scorn.  “But 
let  the  combat  be  as  always,  with  naked  sword  and  with- 
out shield  of  any  kind.” 

“I  accept  the  challenge,  brave  Ossa,  and  no  one  shall 
abide  the  issue  if  he  be  not  so  inclined,”  Alexander  cried, 
his  eyes  aflame  with  anger  at  the  other’s  insolence. 

“Nay,  you  shall  not  fight  the  thief,  good  master,” 
Lysimachus  cried,  hastening  to  Alexander’s  side.  “It 
were  a shame  and  mockery  of  your  kingly  rank.  We  will 
rather  go  our  way  and  another  day  return  and  mete  out 
the  punishment  these  outlaws  merit.” 

“Peace,  Lysimachus!  ’Tis  but  a trial  of  strength  and 
skill,  and  I may  not  evade  the  proffered  combat,  or  show 
less  courage  than  another  man,”  Alexander  answered  im- 
patiently, removing  his  helmet  and  armor.  Then  taking 
the  sword  Ossa  offered  him,  he  advanced  and  awaited 
his  opponent. 


167 


For  the  King 

Prado  showing  no  less  resolution,  hurried  forward 
and  in  a moment  the  two  confronted  each  other  in  the 
center  of  the  great  rock. 

“Give  room  there!”  Ossa  cried  with  stern  impatience, 
motioning  and  pushing  his  followers  to  the  mouth  of  the 
cave. 

When  in  this  way  the  wide  platform  had  been  cleared, 
the  combatants  losing  no  time,  advanced  upon  each  other 
with  furious  eagerness.  Stroke  on  stroke  followed  in 
hot  haste,  their  weapons  emitting  sparks  of  fire  as  they 
clashed  in  mid-air  in  response  to  some  fierce  blow,  or 
glided  to  and  fro  with  parry  and  thrust.  Thus  the  com- 
bat continued  without  advantage  to  either,  while  those 
who  watched  held  their  breath,  awaiting  the  outcome  of 
the  struggle.  After  a while,  Prado  thinking  himself  the 
stronger  and  confident  of  victory,  crowded  forward, 
striving  to  beat  down  the  blade  of  the  other  by  skillful 
play,  or  wrest  it  forcibly  from  his  hand.  Alexander, 
slowly  giving  way,  kept  up  such  show  of  strength  and 
skill  of  weapon  that  the  other,  try  as  he  would,  could  by 
no  means  reach  him  with  his  blade.  Angered  and  sur- 
prised, Prado  grew  more  vehement,  and  the  struggle  in- 
creasing in  fury,  the  clash  of  their  swords  rang  out  on  the 
morning  air,  like  the  sharp  beat  of  the  blacksmith’s  anvil. 
Slowly  backing  away,  as  if  unable  to  withstand  the 
other’s  onslaught,  Alexander,  at  last,  having  measured 
his  opponent’s  skill,  stood  still.  Then  giving  a moment’s 
pause,  he  rushed  upon  his  enemy,  crying,  “For  the  King,” 
and  with  such  fierce  determination  and  dexterity  of  stroke 
that  the  other,  falling  back,  could  do  nothing  more  than 
defend  himself  against  the  deadly  assault. 


168 


Iskander 


“The  Prince  is  the  better  swordsman !”  Ossa  cried, 
watching  Alexander’s  sword  as  it  glistened  in  the  early 
sunlight.  “Prado,  the  poor  devil,  can  do  nothing  but 
back  and  parry!” 

“There  is  not  the  Prince’s  like  in  all  Macedonia,  unless 
it  be  Clitus,  which  I doubt,”  Lysimachus  cried,  tears  of 
joy  filling  his  worn  eyes,  as  his  young  master  drove  the 
now  frightened  robber  before  him. 

At  last,  crowding  Prado  to  the  verge  of  the  cliff,  Alex- 
ander, feigning,  caught  the  other’s  extended  sword  with 
such  strength  and  dexterity  of  wrist  that  the  outlaw,  los- 
ing hold  of  his  weapon,  it  flew  high  in  the  air,  dropping  at 
his  feet.  The  struggle  over,  Alexander  turned  about,  and, 
raising  his  sword,  saluted  Ossa  with  a kindly  smile.  See- 
ing him  thus  unguarded,  Prado,  maddened  with  rage  and 
shame,  stooped  down  and  grasping  his  weapon,  rushed 
forward  to  thrust  Alexander  in  the  back.  At  this  a cry 
of  horror  arose  from  those  who  watched,  and  Alexander 
divining  the  cause,  sprang  forward  and  so  avoided  the 
cowardly  blow.  Turning  and  taking  fresh  hold  of  his 
sword,  he  rushed  upon  the  treacherous  outlaw  with  a 
savage  cry.  Crowding  him  swiftly  to  the  utmost  verge  of 
the  cliff,  he  beat  down  his  guard,  and  then,  neither  wait- 
ing nor  giving  quarter,  buried  his  blade  to  the  hilt  in  the 
other’s  breast.  Feeling  the  stroke,  Prado  sprang  back, 
and  doing  so,  fell,  with  a despairing  cry,  headlong  from 
the  towering  cliff.  Seeing  this,  those  who  watched,  tak- 
ing no  thought  of  tlie  outlaw’s  fate,  rushed  forward  and, 
falling  on  their  knees,  cried  with  one  voice: 

“Hail,  chief  and  master!” 

“If  I be  chief,”  Alexander  cried  in  response,  holding 


For  the  King!” — Page  i6y 


THt  IIBfiAKY 
Of  THE 

UNIVERSITY  OF  ILLINOIS 


169 


For  the  King 

his  weapon  high  aloft,  ‘‘swear  upon  this  sword,  dyed  with 
your  comrade’s  blood,  to  be  true  servants  of  the  King.” 

“We  swear!”  they  exclaimed,  each  raising  his  weapon 
aloft. 

The  combat  being  thus  happily  terminated.  Ossa  lost 
no  time  in  arranging  for  the  departure  of  the  band. 
While  he  was  thus  engaged  Alexander,  going  to  the  edge 
of  the  cliff,  looked  down  upon  the  quiet  valley  and  the 
glistening  river,  seemingly  no  wider  than  a thread  of  sil- 
ver. By  its.  side,  in  the  choked  road,  to  his  great  aston- 
ishment, he  presently  discerned  the  Companion  Cavalry 
standing  still  in  confused  and  disordered  ranks.  Amazed 
at  what  he  saw,  he  lifted  a trumpet  to  his  lips  and  blew 
the  call  “To  arms.”  Then  waiting  while  the  soldiers 
stood  still,  looking  about  them  in  wonder,  he  thrice  re- 
peated the  Prince’s  signal.  This  echoing  and  re-echoing 
from  the  mountain  sides,  reaching  the  waiting  soldiers, 
gave  them  the  joyful  assurance  that  their  Prince  was 
near  them  and  unharmed.  Raising  their  weapons,  they 
gave  a mighty  shout  which,  lifted  in  the  still  air,  came  at 
last  to  Alexander’s  ears  like  a faint  whisper  from  the 
vale  below.  Turning  to  Ossa,  he  cried,  as  he  hastened  to 
don  his  armor : 

“Quick,  good  Ossa,  let  us  descend.  Your  companions 
can  follow  at  their  leisure.” 

“Nay,  they  are  ready  and  waiting,  to  a man,”  Ossa 
answered,  pointing  with  glowing  face  to  the  men  who 
stood  in  slender  column  within  the  cave.  “See,  they 
come  like  skilled  soldiers  ready  to  take  their  places  with- 
out instruction  of  any  kind.” 

Smiling  his  pleasure,  Alexander  saluted  them  with  his 


170 


I skander 


sword,  and  turning  about,  lost  no  time  in  commencing 
the  descent  of  the  mountain.  Reaching  the  spot  where 
he  had  left  his  horse,  Alexander  greeted  the  gallant  steed 
with  a tender  word  as  he  sprang  upon  his  back  to  con- 
tinue the  descent.  Approaching  the  waiting  column,  the 
soldiers  hailed  his  return  with  loud  acclaim,  gathering 
about  him  with  tender  love,  as  if  he  were  their  father. 
Smiling  his  thanks  and  waving  his  sword  toward  those 
who  followed,  he  cried : 

“See,  comrades,  I come  not  empty-handed,  but  with 
these  loyal  and  true  men  for  the  King’s  army.” 

Responding  with  a shout,  the  wondering  Companions 
greeted,  with  hearty  welcome,  their  new  and  strange  com- 
rades. Giving  directions  to  Ossa  to  lead  his  men  on  to 
the  water’s  edge  and  there  await  his  coming,  Alexander 
placed  himself  at  the  head  of  the  Companions,  and  giving 
the  signal,  set  out  at  a gallop  to  meet  and  escort  Roxana 
to  the  coast. 

Calling  Clitus  to  his  side  as  they  swiftly  traversed  the 
silent  vale,  Alexander  exclaimed,  with  curiosity  not  un- 
mixed with  anger : 

“How  does  it  happen,  Clitus,  that  instead  of  guarding 
the  camp  I find  you  here,  loitering  idly  by  the  river 
bank?” 

“I  know  not,  oh  Prince,  save  it  was  there  we  met  the 
sibyl  of  the  vale,  and  she,  vanishing,  ere  her  story  was 
finished,  we  stood  bewildered,  not  knowing  which  way 
to  turn.” 

“The  sibyl  of  the  vale!  Did  she  appear  before  you?” 

“Yes,  oh  Prince.  Going  forward  in  the  early  dawn, 
uncertain  what  to  do,  we  came  upon  her  holding  aloft  a 


171 


For  the  King 

flaming  torch,  and  it  being  a night  of  dreams  and  woman 
foolishness,  I halted,  no  way  surprised  at  seeing  her.  At 
which,  peering  down  from  the  rock  that  loomed  above 
the  road,  she  cried : ‘He  whom  you  seek  sleeps  not  by 
the  sea  but  on  the  mountain  heights.’  Then,  ere  I could 
gain  further  speech  of  her,  she  quenched  her  torch  and 
vanished  like  a mist  in  the  uncertain  light.” 

“She  has  ever  been  a friend  to  the  Macedonians,  and 
more  than  once  has  warned  our  armies  of  foes  awaiting 
them  in  the  hidden  recesses  of  these  mountains.  But 
how  comes  it  that  you  were  there  instead  of  at  Larissa  as 
I commanded?”  Alexander  inquired  with  some  impa- 
tience. 

“It  was  all  the  doings  of  the  Princess  Roxana  and  by 
no  will  of  mine,”  Clitus  answered  with  confident  assur- 
ance, as  if  knowing  the  excuse  would  find  favor  in  his 
master’s  eyes. 

“The  Princess ! What  had  she  to  do  with  it  ?” 

“This,  good  master,  and  I know  not  if  I did  aright,” 
Clitus  responded,  smiling  grimly  to  himself.  “But  in 
the  middle  of  the  night  I was  awakened  by  a cry  and, 
going  to  the  door  of  my  tent,  found  her  there  unattended, 
save  by  a female  slave.  Surprised  out  of  my  senses,  I 
questioned  her,  and  this  was  the  story  she  told  me : Re- 
tiring to  her  couch,  worn  with  the  fatigue  of  the  day, 
she  presently  fell  asleep,  and,  doing  so,  dreamed  that  she 
followed  you  as  you  descended  into  the  valley.  Midway 
of  the  vale,  as  she  watched,  you  were  set  upon  by  a gigan- 
tic robber.  Fighting  with  unequal  strength  of  arm  and 
weapon,  you  were  at  last  overcome  and  led  away  into  the 
depths  of  the  mountain.  Such  was  her  story,  and  hear- 


172 


Iskander 


ing  it,  I laughed.  At  that,  enraged,  she  burst  into  tears, 
crying  out  that  if  I did  not  go  in  search  of  you  she  would 
herself  set  out  alone.  At  last  frightened,  I know  not 
why,  I donned  my  armor  and  gathering  and  arming 
these  soldiers,  set  out  as  she  commanded,’’  Clitus  con- 
cluded, eyeing  the  Prince  as  if  to  ask  if  any  part  of  the 
dream  were  true. 

“ ’Twas  strange,  Clitus,  and  a message  from  the  pre- 
serving Gods,”  he  answered,  lifting  his  eyes  to  the  snow- 
topped  summit  of  Olympus.  ‘Tor  it  was  precisely  as  she 
dreamed,  save  that  I overcame  the  robber  chief  instead, 
and  he,  swearing  fealty  to  the  King  for  himself  and  his 
followers,  I went  with  him  to  accept  their  oath  in  per- 
son.” 

“Was  the  meeting  a chance  one,  think  you,  oh  Prince, 
or  did  the  robber  know  of  your  coming?”  Clitus  asked, 
thinking  of  Mithrines’  flying  messenger. 

“They  were  on  the  watch,  good  Clitus,  but  the  contest 
ending  as  I say,  no  harm  followed.”  And  musing  on 
what  Clitus  had  said,  his  heart  filled  with  rapture,  Alex- 
ander spurred  forward  at  topmost  speed,  impatient  to 
meet  and  welcome  his  love. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 


THE  SIBYL  OF  THE  VALE. 

Hurrying  forward  without  slackening  rein,  Alexander 
came  upon  Eumenes  and  the  marching  column  as  it  en- 
tered the  picturesque  vale.  In  its  midst  and  surrounded 
by  a guard  of  honor,  the  Persian  envoys  moved  forward 
with  stately  dignity.  As  if  in  contrast,  far  in  the  rear, 
with  pipe  and  song,  the  “Hungry  Horde”  came  straggling 
on  with  joyful  voice.  Galloping  to  the  side  of  Roxana, 
Alexander  cried  in  rapture: 

“Greeting  and  happiness,  sweet  Princess!  I have  re- 
turned to  guide  you  through  the  enchanted  valley  lest, 
hurrying,  you  lose  something  of  its  beauty  in  the  strange- 
ness of  the  setting.” 

“Thanks,  gentle  Prince,  I had  not  thought  to  see  you 
again  till  we  reached  the  coast,”  she  answered,  her  voice 
and  heightened  color  evincing  her  delight. 

“So  I told  you,  sweet  being,  but  no  sooner  do  I leave 
your  presence  than  I turn  about  to  retrace  my  steps,  for- 
getful of  all  save  being  near  you,”  he  answered,  leading 
her  horse  to  one  side  to  allow  the  column  to  pass. 

While  thus  waiting,  Mithrines,  white  of  face,  ap- 
proached, half  reclining  in  his  seat.  Looking  down  from 
the  back  of  the  dromedary  and  seeing  them,  he  cried  in 
scorn  to  Alexander : 

“The  Gods  protect  you  now,  but  naught  shall  long 
put  off  the  fateful  hour!”  and  lifting  himself  he  half 

(173) 


174 


Iskander 


raised  the  javelin  by  his  side  as  if  to  hurl  it  at  his  enemy; 
but,  releasing  the  weapon,  he  passed  on,  his  lowering  face 
fixed  in  scowling  hatred  on  the  Prince  and  his  companion. 

“What  new  peril  has  this  wretch  contrived,  Iskander?” 
Roxana  cried  in  fear,  as  she  drew  her  horse  near  to  that 
of  Alexander.  “Sa)^  sweet  love,  if  my  dream  was  true; 
and  did  Clitus  reach  your  side  in  time?”  she  went  on, 
grasping  his  hand  as  she  recalled  the  events  of  the  previ- 
ous night. 

“Let  not  your  tender  heart  be  disturbed,  sweet  love, 
with  thoughts  of  Mithrines  and  his  foolish  boasting.  Of 
your  dream,  Roxana,  it  was  only  true  in  part,  your  gentle 
love  adding  to  the  danger.  Clitus,  doing  as  you  directed, 
reached  my  side  and  found  me  safe  and  unharmed  as  you 
see  me  now.  But,  come,  let  us  not  waste  the  sweet  hour 
lest  you  lose  some  part  of  the  picturesque  vale,  for  you 
must  know,  dear  heart,  it  has  ever  been  the  pride  of  Greece 
as  it  is  the  admiration  of  all  men.” 

Advancing  at  an  easy  pace,  Alexander  cried  as  the 
valley  narrowed : 

“See  how  the  overhanging  mountains  crowd  upon  the 
foaming  river  as  it  cuts  its  way  between  the  granite  walls. 
Such  mighty  effort  puts  to  shame  all  the  puny  works  of 
men.” 

“ ’Tis  thus  you  ever  put  me  off,  Iskander,  nor  tell  me 
aught  you  think,”  she  answered  sorrowfully,  unable  to 
dismiss  her  fears.  But  changing  with  the  moment,  as 
women  will,  she  cast  aside  her  fretful  thoughts,  and, 
grasping  Alexander’s  hand,  cried  out:  “Come,  sweet 
love,  I will  sorrow  no  more,  but  delight  with  you  in  the 
beauty  and  strangeness  of  what  we  see.” 


175 


The  Sibyl  of  the  Vale 

And  well  she  might,  for  in  the  presence  of  the  majestic 
mountains  the  hopes  and  fears  of  men  seemed  trivial 
things.  Yesterday  she  had  viewed  Olympus  from  a dis- 
tance; now,  beyond  the  foaming  river,  enveloped  in  fleecy 
clouds  of  spray,  the  great  mountain  reared  its  dizzy 
height.  About  its  base  and  ascending  walls  the  deep 
fissures  and  gloomy  caverns  that  seamed  its  rugged  front 
were  clearly  discernible  to  her  astonished  eyes.  Nearer 
at  hand,  solitary  cliffs  projected  their  graceful  heights 
far  into  the  ambient  air,  a nesting  place  for  birds.  Upon 
the  mountain  side,  far  up,  precipices  and  sombre  canons, 
cut  deep  in  the  granite  wall,  dazed  her  eyes  as  she  sought 
in  vain  to  pierce  their  precipitous  depths. 

Such  was  Olympus,  reverenced  by  the  Greeks  as  the 
abode  of  the  Gods.  In  its  vast  solitudes  outlaws  and 
slaves  found  a retreat  secure  from  pursuit,  as  in  after 
time  pious  hermits  sought  its  hidden  caverns  in  which 
to  pass  their  days  in  fasting  and  prayer.  Or  later  still, 
in  the  ages  to  come,  its  towering  summits  would  become 
the  abode  of  gloomy  monasteries  in  which  men  would 
pass  their  lives  in  penitence  and  prayer.  Or  now,  in  the 
vast  cycles  of  time,  these  having  passed  away  like  the 
others,  the  mountain  and  its  projecting  heights  are  once 
more  given  up  to  solitude  and  silence  as  in  the  beginning. 

Gazing  upward  affrighted,  Roxana  exclaimed  as  she 
grasped  Alexander’s  hand ; 

“The  projecting  heights,  Iskander,  tremble  as  if  about 
to  fall  upon  our  heads,”  and  turning.  Ossa’s  projecting 
cliffs  meeting  her  frightened  gaze  as  they  seemed  to  bal- 
ance themselves,  suspended  in  the  air,  she  cried : “Come, 
Iskander,  let  us  hasten,  for  my  heart  no  longer  beats 


176 


I skander 


with  fear  of  these  overhanging  mountains,”  and  putting 
spurs  to  their  horses  they  quickly  reached  a secluded  part 
of  the  valley  where  greater  breadth  gave  rest  to  her  over- 
wrought nerves. 

“Stay,  Iskander,”  she  cried,  as  they  reached  a sylvan 
glade,  belted  about  with  stately  trees.  “In  this  quiet 
spot  one  might  pass  a lifetime  and  yet  find  it  all  too  short 
— if  their  love  were  near,”  she  added,  seeking  her  com- 
panion’s hand. 

Carried  away  by  the  solitude  and  sweetness  of  the  syl- 
van dell,  Alexander  threw  his  arms  about  Roxana  and, 
kissing  her  with  tender  love,  cried  out  with  throbbing 
heart: 

“Yes,  ’tis  as  if  sweet  Nature,  exhausting  all  her  treas- 
ures, had  here  contrived  an  enchanted  spot  for  those  who 
love.  Would  it  were  our  happy  lot,  Roxana,  to  pass  our 
lives  in  sweet  contentment  amid  such  solitudes.” 

“It  is  among  such  heights  and  silent  valleys  as  this, 
Iskander,  that  I live,  and  more  like  a shepherdess  than 
aught  else.” 

“I  would  you  were  such,  and  I a shepherd  with  naught 
beside  my  bleating  flocks  and  your  sweet  presence.” 

“Why  is  it  not  that  way,  Iskander?”  she  asked  with 
trembling  voice.  “Oh,  what  is  to  become  of  our  trusting 
love  amid  the  fierce  wars  and  strivings  of  the  great! 
Surely,  it  will  have  no  ending  but  despair  and  death !” 

“Say  not  so,  sweet  love.  For  as  I shall  have  strength 
to  govern  when  I become  King,  so  shall  I have  strength 
to  make  you  my  Queen;  and  that  naught  may  come  be- 
tween tis,  sweet  love,  let  us  pray  to  the  Gods  on  yonder 
heights  to  fulfill,  in  this,  our  heai'ts’  desire,”  and  dis- 


177 


The  Sibyl  of  the  Vale 

mounting  and  kneeling  like  trusting  children  they  lifted 
their  eyes  to  the  majestic  mountain  in  prayer  that  Zeus 
might  grant  them  the  happiness  their  hearts  craved. 
“Now,  sweet  love,”  Alexander  exclaimed,  as  they  rose 
to  their  feet,  “whatever  may  come,  whether  we  be  near 
each  other  or  far  apart,  we  shall  ever  know  the  other  is 
true  to  our  plighted  troth.” 

“I  will  fear  no  longer,  dear  Iskander,  nor  deny  my  love 
its  gentle  impulse,  but  let  it  become  my  very  life,  or,  if 
need  be,  the  cloak  that  covers  me  when  I die,”  she  an- 
swered, throwing  her  arms  about  his  neck  and  bursting 
into  tears,  as  if,  despite  her  words,  the  wide  gulf  that 
parted  them  was  ever  present  to  her  confiding  nature. 

Thus  these  loving  hearts  plighted  their  faith  anew, 
amid  the  stillness  of  the  sylvan  dell,  in  the  shadow  of  the 
towering  mountains. 

Meanwhile  the  marching  column,  unmindful  of  Alex- 
ander and  Roxana  or  their  trusting  love,  kept  on  its 
way  to  the  smiling  sea.  Thus  it  reached  a spot  in  the 
congested  valley  where.  Ossa  crowding  close  upon  the 
river,  only  a narrow  path  cut  through  the  solid  wall 
afforded  a way  for  the  passing  column.  Beside  this  the 
river,  black  as  night,  whirled  in  never-ending  eddies  about 
the  deep  inlet  here  worn  in  the  side  of  the  crumbling 
rock.  Above  a steep  cliff  arose,  offering  no  foothold 
save  where  a jutting  rock  hung  like  an  outstretched  arm 
over  the  narrow  road.  Off  this  rock,  in  a deep  cavern 
opening  on  the  projecting  spur,  Arythrea,  the  sacred 
prophetess  of  Olympus,  dwelt  in  solitude.  Now,  as  the 
noisy  throng  drew  near,  all  eyes  beheld  her  with  wonder 
or  affright,  as,  emerging  from  the  cave,  she  stood  revealed 


178 


Iskander 


against  the  clear  blue  sky.  Of  noble  features  and  com- 
manding height,  the  sacred  priestess  looked  the  accepted 
oracle  of  Zeus  that  all  knew  her  to  be.  About  her  meager 
arms  and  shrunken  form  she  wore,  as  if  in  penitence, 
rude  garments  of  wool  and  undressed  goat-skins.  Her 
dress,  falling  loosely  about  her  majestic  form,  was  girt 
at  the  waist  with  a belt  of  serpent  skins,  the  heads  of  the 
loathsome  reptiles  dangling  at  her  knees.  Of  covering 
for  her  head  there  was  none,  save  the  coarse  gray  hair 
which  fell  in  disheveled  masses  over  her  neck  and  sloping 
shoulders. 

To  the  marching  soldiers  she  made  no  sign,  but  as  the 
Persian  nobles  drew  near  she  waved  her  hand  as  if  com- 
manding them  to  halt.  Looking  down  on  Oxyartes’  won- 
dering face,  the  prophetic  spirit  full  upon  her,  she  cried  in 
a commanding  voice: 

“Hail,  noble  chieftain  of  the  mountain  heights ! Go  in 
peace  and  happiness,  knowing  thy  honored  name  shall  be 
placed  above  that  of  other  men  in  thy  country  and  shall 
be  remembered  so  long  as  the  deeds  of  this  mighty  age 
are  treasured  in  the  history  of  mankind.” 

Waving  him  to  proceed,  she  looked  down  on  Arta- 
bazus,  as  he  came  on  with  noble  air,  crying : 

“All  glory  to  thee,  noble  Persian,  in  the  coming  time, 
for  thy  exalted  honor  and  steadfast  loyalty  to  thy  stricken 
King  and  crumbling  empire.  Go  thy  way,  for  though 
thy  courage  and  constancy  shall  naught  avail,  they  shall 
be  remembered  of  thee  so  long  as  men  regard  virtue  and 
honor.”* 

*This  great  nobleman  remained  steadfast  to  the  Persian  King 
throughout  the  latter’s  struggle  to  defend  his  country  and  crown. 
After  the  decisive  defeat  at  Arbela  he  followed  him  to  Ecbatana, 


179 


The  Sibyl  of  the  Vale 

Waving  Artabazus  farewell,  as  she  had  the  other,  the 
eyes  of  the  prophetess  rested  with  sorrowing  glance  on 
the  white  face  and  recumbent  figure  of  Mithrines.  Look- 
ing up  he  cried  with  scoffing  smile : 

“What!  Have  you  something  with  which  to  tickle 
my  listening  ear  and  swelling  vanity,  sweet  nurse?  Or 
is  your  message  of  a sombre  hue,  and  therefore  more 
likely  to  be  true  ?” 

“Rail  not,  presumptuous  man,  accursed  of  Gods  and 
men  I”  she  answered  with  sorrowing  voice. 

“Accursed,  you  say?”  he  answered,  holding  up  his 
jeweled  hands  in  vain  derision.  “Look  these  like  curses 
or  blessings?”  he  went  on,  flashing  the  sparkling  gems. 
“Out  with  the  story,  beldam,  nor  delay  the  march,  for 
I see  you  are  near  to  bursting  with  splenetic  humor.” 

“Scoff  not  at  the  Gods,  betrayer  of  thy  countrymen 
and  willing  slave  of  the  Persian  tyrant.  He,  too,  thou 
shalt  betray,  and  yet  another  and  a nobler  master.  But 
vainly,  for  thy  treachery  disclosed  thou  shalt  end  thy 
days,  not  in  honor,  but  outstretched  on  Pera’s  rocky  cita- 
del. There,  while  thy  parched  lips  shall  cry  mercy  for 
men  murdered  and  betrayed,  hungry  vultures  shall  fight 
for  thy  rotting  flesh  ere  thy  dimmed  and  sorrowing  eyes 
are  closed  in  death.” 

the  last  of  the  Persian  capitals  to  surrender.  Nor  did  he  desert  him 
when  it  became  necessary  for  Darius  to  flee  from  this  last  strong- 
hold on  Alexander’s  approach.  Commanding  a troop  of  fifteen 
hundred  men  he  continued  in  attendance  on  the  great  King  until  he 
was  crowded  to  one  side  by  Bessus  and  his  fellow  conspirators  be- 
fore they  put  Darius  to  death  on  the  Parthian  plain.  Then,  turning 
to  one  side  to  avoid  Alexander’s  pursuing  army,  he  awaited  on  neu- 
tral territory  the  termination  of  the  great  struggle. 


180 


Iskander 


“When,  oh  dragon  of  the  air,  shall  all  this  come  to 
pass?”  Mithrines  cried,  paling  at  the  sibyl’s  words,  but 
preserving  still  his  scornful  front. 

“Ere  time  has  dimmed  thy  cunning  eyes  or  cooled  thy 
poisoned  blood,  weak  man.  But  all  too  long,  though 
nothing  thou  plannest  shall  come  to  pass  save  the  betrayal 
of  trusts  bestowed  on  thee.  No!  Not  more  fruitful  than 
the  vain  efforts  of  yonder  grinning  corpse  which,  living, 
sought  to  do  thy  evil  offices,”  and  pausing,  she  pointed 
her  bony  finger  at  the  bloated  form  of  Mithrines’  attend- 
ant which  slowly  floated  with  upturned  visage  in  the 
black  waters  at  her  feet.  “See!  he  comes  to  confront 
thee  in  thy  pride  and  wickedness  as  a warning  from  the 
Gods,”  she  went  on  as  Mithrines  gazed  down  at  the  loath- 
some object  with  blanched  face  and  shrinking  form. 

“Of  that  other  one,”  she  continued,  “whom  thou  sent 
hither  but  yesterday  on  an  errand  of  death,  his  mission, 
like  the  others,  came  to  naught,  and  if  thou  wouldst  be 
sure,  go  seek  him  by  yonder  curling  smoke,  where  thou 
shalt  find  his  scattered  bones,  a prey  to  the  devouring 
wolves.  Go,  vain  man!”  she  cried  with  majestic  air, 
holding  her  staff  aloft,  “and  pray  the  Gods  that  thy  life 
may  be  cut  short  ere  the  things  I have  told  thee  come 
true.” 

Uttering  a curse,  Mithrines  struck  the  dromedary  a 
cruel  blow,  but  proceeding,  his  eyes  followed  the  floating 
corpse,  which,  slowly  circling  in  the  eddying  water, 
seemed  to  point  him  out  as  the  betrayer  of  his  kind.  And 
to  give  this  greater  semblance  of  truth,  as  the  body  was 
at  last  sucked  down  by  the  whirling  pool,  the  head  sud- 
denly lifted  and,  with  arms  extended,  stared  at  him  from 


181 


The  Sibyl  of  the  Vale 

out  its  glazed  and  sunken  eyes.  Thus  it  slowly  disap- 
peared in  the  black  waters,  its  shining  teeth  glistening 
between  the  swollen  lips,  giving  to  the  face  an  air  of 
such  fiendish  glee  that  Mithrines,  uttering  a curse,  fell 
back  on  his  couch  as  if  stricken  with  death. 

“Heard  you  what  the  sibyl  said?”  Clitus  asked  with 
pale  face  and  open  mouth,  turning  to  Lysimachus,  as  they 
followed  close  upon  Mithrines’  heels.  “Is  there  truth  in 
such  prophecies,  think  you?” 

“ ’Twere  blaspheming  the  Gods  to  doubt  it,”  Lysima- 
chus answered,  his  eyes  turned  toward  Olympus. 

“She  seemed  to  foretell  the  very  things  men  talk  about; 
the  downfall  of  Sardis  and  the  destruction  of  the  Persian 
Empire.” 

“She  needs  not  the  gift  of  prophecy  to  foretell  that  if 
Alexander  leads  the  way,”  Lysimachus  answered,  as  if 
his  master  were  already  seated  on  the  throne  of  the  great 
King. 

“See,  Lysimachus,”  Clitus  cried,  pointing  to  the  body 
of  Mithrines’  attendant,  as  with  hideous  gravity  it  stood 
half  upright  in  the  whirling  waters.  “ ’Tis  as  the  sibyl 
said.” 

“What  meant  she,  Clitus?  Did  Mithrines  murder 
him?”  the  other  asked  with  pale  cheeks,  as  he  looked 
down  on  the  repulsive  object. 

“Nay,  ’twas  but  a figure  of  speech  foretelling  the  fate 
of  Mithrines  and  his  creatures,”  Clitus  answered,  evad- 
ing the  question  as  he  rode  on  with  downcast  head. 

Alexander  and  Roxana  presently  nearing  the  overhang- 
ing rock,  and  he  espying  the  sibyl,  called  to  his  com- 
panion, saying : 


182 


I skander 


‘‘See  yonder  majestic  and  lonely  figure,  sweet  love! 
'Tis  Arythrea,  the  prophetess  of  the  vale/' 

“Can  she  truly  foretell  the  things  that  are  to  come, 
think  you?'’ 

“So  it  is  said  and  everywhere  believed." 

“Will  she  have  aught  to  say  to  us,  think  you?"  Roxana 
asked,  as  if  it  were  a thing  to  be  avoided. 

“I  know  not,  but  when  last  I passed  she  looked  down 
on  me  in  silence.  When  I would  have  stopped  she  waved 
me  on,  as  if  to  some  good  fortune,  and  so  it  happily 
turned  out,"  he  went  on,  thinking  of  Cheronea.  “Today 
she  seems  in  less  pleasant  mood,  and,  see ! she  beckons  us 
to  halt." 

“Hast  thou  nothing  to  ask  of  me,  sweet  Prince?  Nei- 
ther thou  nor  thy  fair  companion?"  the  sibyl  cried  as 
Alexander  and  Roxana  stood  still  with  upturned  faces. 
“Wouldst  thou  not  know  what  the  future  has  in  store 
for  thee,  great  Prince?  Thou  with  the  yellow  hair  and 
uplifted  head,  fearing  naught  save  the  Gods." 

“No,  sacred  mother,  I seek  not  to  know  the  future. 
Give  me  the  present  hour  of  happiness  and  the  hope  that, 
dying,  I may  still  clasp  this  hand  in  mine,"  Alexander 
answered,  pressing  Roxana's  fingers  to  his  lips. 

“Thy  end  shall  be  as  thou  sayest,  sweet  Prince,  and 
thus  thy  simple  wish  is  granted  thee.  But  the  Gods  per- 
mit not  such  as  thee,  however  they  may  be  inclined,  to 
go  forward  in  life  without  knowledge  of  what  is  in  store 
for  them,"  she  answered,  restraining  him  with  her  wand. 

“What,  think  you,  have  the  Gods  in  store  for  me,  good 
mother?"  Roxana  interposed,  as  if  impatient  to  know 
her  fate,  be  it  what  it  might. 


183 


The  Sibyl  of  the  Vale 

“Everything  that  women  crave  and  men  honor,  sweet 
being,”  the  sibyl  responded.  “For  in  the  days  to  come 
thy  name  shall  rise  like  a m.eteor  in  the  far  east,  and 
fixing  itself  in  the  heavens  shall  dwell  beside  the  star  of 
him  who  sits  beside  thee.  Such  is  thy  destiny,  fair  maiden ; 
seek  to  know  no  more.” 

“I  would  not  if  I could,  for  ’tis  all  and  more  than  I 
could  ask,”  Roxana  answered,  tears  dimming  her  soft 
eyes  as  she  lifted  Alexander’s  hand  to  her  lips  in  tender 
caress. 

“See,  sweet  love,  how  idle  your  fears,  for  your  life 
and  mine  are  forever  one.  ’Tis  thus  the  Gods  decree,” 
Alexander  cried,  clasping  his  arm  about  her  trembling 
form. 

“Of  thee,  great  Prince,  thy  life  belongs  to  the  ages. 
The  world  proclaims  thee  and  men  already  hail  thy  rising 
fortune.  Ere  two  harvests  shall  pass,  thy  star,  shooting 
heavenward,  shall  be  beheld  of  men  for  all  the  coming 
time.  Fear  not,  for  neither  poison,  nor  dagger,  nor  battle 
dangers,  shall  strike  thee  down.  So  thou  shalt  go  on  till 
thy  destiny  is  fulfilled  and  thou  art  known  no  more  save 
in  the  annals  of  mankind.  But  of  her  beside  thee,  not 
till  thou  art  more  Persian  than  Greek  canst  thou  proclaim 
her  Queen  of  thy  lofty  throne.  Then  the  splendor  of 
thy  fame  shall  envelop  her  and  all  the  world  shall  pay 
her  reverence  as  to  a Goddess,”  and,  lifting  up  her  arms 
to  the  sacred  mountain  as  if  blessing  those  before  her, 
she  slowly  turned  and  entered  the  open  cavern. 

Clasping  his  companion  in  his  arms  as  the  sibyl  van- 
ished, Alexander  cried : 

“Hail,  Queen  of  my  heart  and  throne !” 


184 


I skander 


But  she,  tenderly  embracing  him,  answered  naught, 
and  thus  they  rode  on  in  silence,  pondering  on  what  the 
prophetess  had  said.  At  last,  emerging  from  the  seques- 
tered vale,  they  came  upon  the  open  sea,  its  surface  glis- 
tening in  the  sunlight  like  disks  of  polished  silver. 

‘‘See,  sweet  love,  the  ships  await  our  coming,’'  Alex- 
ander cried,  pointing  to  the  vessels  anchored  in  the  little 
bay. 

“Yes,  while  we  have  loitered,  like  truant  children, 
everything  has  been  made  ready  for  our  departure,”  Rox- 
ana answered,  as  she  saw  the  loaded  vessels  and  waiting 
sailors. 

“Clitus  has  not  given  the  soldiers  time  to  breathe  the 
refreshing  air,  ere  hurrying  them  and  their  belongings 
aboard  the  ships.  No  wonder  the  soldiers  love  him,  and 
the  King  not  less !”  Alexander  cried  with  beaming  eyes. 

“At  Ephesus  our  officers  were  a week  doing  what 
Clitus  has  accomplished  in  so  short  a time,”  Roxana 
answered  with  a sigh,  thinking  of  the  supineness  of  her 
countrymen. 

“Thus  Clitus  has  been  taught  by  the  King,  and  so  it 
is  that  our  army  comes  always  upon  the  enemy  unpre- 
pared,” Alexander  answered  as  if  he  had  learned  the  les- 
son well. 

“I  pray  that  your  brave  soldiers  and  those  of  the  great 
King  may  never  come  together  except  in  friendship,” 
Roxana  answered  with  foreboding  voice. 

“Bactria  is  far  away,  sweet  love,  and  if  destiny  leads 
our  armies  there,  those  you  love  will  then  be  more  free 
and  honored  than  under  Persia’s  rule.” 

“Oh,  Iskander,  you  look  only  on  the  thing  that  is  hap- 


185 


The  Sibyl  of  the  Vale 

piest  and  best  for  us/’  she  answered,  bending  over  and 
kissing  his  extended  arm. 

“Would  you  have  it  otherwise,  sweet  love?  For  if  I 
were  less  fixed  in  my  resolve,  what  hope  that  I should 
ever  govern  Macedon  and  its  rugged  people?  Like  my 
father,  every  adverse  thing  shall  yield,  and  so  at  last  you 
shall  share  my  throne  as  you  now  share  my  heart,”  he 
cried,  exalted,  clasping  her  yielding  hand  with  fervent 
love  and  hope. 


CHAPTER  XV. 


THE  LYBIAN  KING. 

Alexander  and  Roxana  reaching  the  shore,  Clitus  wel- 
comed them,  exclaiming,  as  he  sniffed  the  salt  air,  that 
the  ships  were  ready  to  weigh  anchor. 

“Give  orders,  then,  for  our  departure,  if  the  augur’s 
report  be  favorable,”  Alexander  answered,  for  in  that  age, 
it  must  be  remembered,  nothing  was  attempted  by  the 
Greeks  if  the  omens  were  not  propitious. 

“It  foretells  good  fortune,  oh  Prince.  Examining  the 
entrails  of  the  slaughtered  victim,  Evenius  found  them 
perfect,  but  as  he  held  the  throbbing  heart  in  his  open 
hand  it  emitted  a fountain  of  blood,  covering  his  sacred 
person.” 

“What  does  he  presage  from  that?”  Alexander  asked 
attentively. 

“A  bloody  conflict,  good  Prince.” 

“A  conflict ! And  with  whom  ?”  Alexander  exclaimed 
incredulously,  Macedonia  being  then  at  peace  with  all 
her  neighbors. 

“With  the  pirates  who  infest  the  coast  like  rats  about 
a deserted  fortress.” 

“The  King  long  since  swept  the  gulf  of  all  such  pests.” 

“Yes,  but  only  to  return  like  vultures,”  Clitus  cried, 
elated  at  the  prospect  of  battle  and  the  spoils  of  victory. 

“If  what  you  say  is  true,  ’tis  a thing  to  be  looked  to. 
But  from  whence  heard  you  this?” 

(180) 


187 


The  Lybian  King 

“From  the  sailors;  and  taking  their  word  I have  dis- 
tributed the  soldiers  among  the  ships  so  that  each  may- 
bear  his  share  of  the  burden.” 

“That  is  like  the  skillful  soldier  you  are.  While  I 
have  dallied  you  have  acted,”  Alexander  answered,  smil- 
ing upon  the  other. 

“Nay,  I deserve  no  praise,  having  done  only  what  the 
captains  advised.” 

“Where  have  you  placed  Ossa  and  his  followers  ?” 

“On  the  Delphos,  the  quadrireme;  she  with  the  four 
banks  of  oars,”  Clitus  answered,  pointing  to  the  noble 
vessel. 

“There  I will  go  with  the  Persian  embassy.  You,  Cli- 
tus, take  command  of  a trireme,  and  Eumenes  of  the 
other.  Ptolemy,  Antigonus  and  Seleucus  will  each  com- 
mand one  of  the  biremes,”  Alexander  directed,  scanning 
the  fleet. 

The  arrangement  being  thus  perfected,  the  Prince  lost 
no  time  in  escorting  Roxana  to  the  waiting  barge,  and 
the  sailors,  bending  to  their  oars,  soon  brought  them  to 
the  side  of  the  stately  vessel.  Mounting  the  wooden  lad- 
der, Alexander  hastened  to  make  such  provision  for  his 
guests  as  the  noble  ship  afforded.  Oxyartes  and  Roxana, 
in  especial  honor,  he  placed  in  the  gilded  cabin  beneath 
the  steersmen,  it  being  the  most  commodious  and  least 
exposed  place  should  danger  threaten  the  vessel. 

Having  performed  this  act  of  hospitality,  he  sought 
Roxana  and  led  her  to  a retired  part  of  the  deck,  there 
to  await  the  departure  of  the  fleet.  Nor  was  it  long,  for 
scarce  had  he  shown  himself  than  Clitus,  giving  the 
signal  to  weigh  anchor,  the  vessels  were  in  a moment 


188 


Iskander 


under  way.  Reaching  the  open  sea,  the  ships  took  preced- 
ence according  to  their  strength,  the  Delphos  taking  the 
lead  and  the  triremes,  with  their  three  banks  of  oars  and 
lesser  force,  following  on.  Behind  these  the  biremes, 
with  two  banks  of  oars,  came  in  their  turn.  Still  back 
of  these,  with  some  regard  to  order,  came  the  shallow 
transports  with  the  baggage  and  slaves  and  the  ‘TIungry 
Horde,’'  these  last  filling  the  air  with  their  pipes  and  jovial 
songs. 

As  the  fleet  turned  its  face  to  the  north  with  uplifted 
sails,  Roxana,  laying  hold  of  Alexander  and  looking  to 
her  father,  exclaimed : 

‘‘If  nothing  more  should  come  of  our  mission  than 
what  has  already  happened,  surely  we  are  every  way 
repaid  for  the  long  journey.” 

“Let  us  hope,  rather,  sweet  child,  that  its  pleasures  are 
but  an  omen  of  success  at  Pella,”  Oxyartes  answered,  his 
mind  concerned  with  his  embassy. 

“Let  us  believe  that  it  is  so,  dear  father,  for  at  Pella 
we  shall  have  one  true  friend  to  frankly  welcome  us,” 
Roxana  answered,  the  color  mounting  to  her  face. 

“Of  whom  do  you  speak,  my  child?”  Oxyartes  asked, 
surprised. 

“Who  else,  father,  but  Alexander,  the  crown  Prince?” 
she  answered,  catching  her  breath. 

“Nay,  simple  child,  'tis  a foolish  thought.  The  ambi- 
tion of  Philip,  the  conquering  King,  is  but  a summer’s 
dream,  ’tis  said,  to  Alexander’s  love  of  arms  and  greed 
of  conquest.  Already  the  aspiring  Prince  bemoans  his 
fate  that  the  King  will  leave  him  no  worlds  to  conquer. 
It  is  from  him,  sweet  child,  that  Persia  has  most  to  fear, 


189 


The  Lybian  King 

for  Philip  will  not  pursue  the  venture  far,  being  occupied 
at  home,  but  nothing  can  stay  the  hand  of  Alexander, 
once  he  enters  Asia.” 

“Yes!  I will  stay  his  hand  if  need  be,”  she  answered 
confidently,  gazing  into  the  face  of  Alexander,  her  own 
afire.  “For  this  brave  Prince  beside  you,  father,  is  Alex- 
ander, and  to  him  my  vows  of  love  are  plighted,  never 
to  be  severed  save  by  death.  ’Tis  to  him  I look  for  deliv- 
erance from  the  threatened  peril,”  she  went  on  in  an  agi- 
tated voice. 

Startled  out  of  himself,  and  mindful  of  what  he  had 
said,  Oxyartes  stood  trembling,  overwhelmed  by  his  con- 
flicting emotions.  Gaining  the  mastery,  he  would  have 
fallen  upon  his  knees  before  the  sovereign  Prince  had  not 
Alexander  stayed  him,  exclaiming: 

“I  know  not  the  policy  of  the  King,  and  I can  but 
follow  where  he  leads,  but  for  yourself,  brave  Prince, 
you  have  naught  to  fear;  and  this  I pledge  you  in  the 
King’s  name,”  he  concluded,  placing  his  arm  about  the 
other’s  body. 

“Thanks,  most  noble  Prince;  I could  expect  no  less 
from  you.  But  it  is  for  Persia  that  I am  here,  to  avert, 
if  I may,  the  mighty  war  that  threatens  her.  ’Tis  for 
this  that  my  King  sends  me,  and  it  is  this  that  engages 
all  my  thoughts,”  Oxyartes  answered  with  deep  emotion. 

“For  the  King  I can  give  no  pledge,  gracious  Prince,” 
Alexander  answered  with  grave  concern.  “Nor  for  my- 
self being  King,  for  it  is  not  given  to  men  to  stay  the 
hand  of  destiny;  but  for  yourself  and  those  you  love,  I 
pledge  you  peace  and  honor.  Of  Roxana,”  he  went  on. 


190 


Iskander 


grasping  her  hand,  “ ’tis  as  she  has  said,  and  I,  having 
won  her  as  a soldier,  would  wear  her  as  a King.” 

To  this  Oxyartes  could  for  a long  time  make  no  an- 
swer, his  eyes  filling  with  tears.  At  last  gaining  voice, 
he  exclaimed,  a sob  filling  his  throat : 

“King  Philip,  your  father,  generous  Prince,  will  stand 
opposed  to  such  union  with  all  his  strength.  To  him  it 
will  appear  a shameful  mesalliance,  and  if  you  persist  he 
will  name  another  to  succeed  him.  For  such  a marriage 
fits  not  with  his  great  ambition  or  hopes  of  you,” 
Oxyartes  went  on,  convinced  of  the  truth  of  all  he  said. 

“No  one  shall  cheat  me  of  the  crown.  King  of  right, 
no  power  shall  keep  me  from  the  throne  when  Philip 
dies,”  Alexander  cried  with  flaming  eyes,  as  if  already 
facing  the  dire  emergency. 

While  they  were  thus  discussing  the  future,  fraught 
with  so  many  perils,  the  ships  responding  to  qutstretched 
sail  and  measured  oar,  approached  within  the  shadow  of 
the  Sacred  Mountain.  Nearing  a headland  on  which  a 
forest  grew,  the  sailors  whO'  watched  saw,  at  first  with 
curiosity  and  then  dismay,  slender  columns  of  smoke  as- 
cending from  the  hidden  ground. 

“ ’Twas  thus  in  former  days  the  pirates  were  wont 
to  convey  information  of  passing  ships,”  Alexander  ex- 
claimed, turning  to  the  captain,  who  was  attentively  re- 
garding the  ascending  smoke. 

“Such  is  still  their  custom,  it  would  appear,  oh  Prince,” 
the  other  replied,  not  taking  his  eyes  off  the  shore.  “See! 
There  are  as  many  columns  as  we  have  armed  ships. 
Could  better  proof  be  asked?” 

“Look,  oh  Prince,  ’tis  a signal  to  the  waiting  pirates,” 


191 


The  Lybian  King 

Clitus  cried,  elated,  from  the  prow  of  his  vessel,  pointing 
to  the  ascending  smoke. 

Turning  to  the  captain,  convinced  of  the  truth  of  what 
was  told  him,  Alexander  cried : 

“Hasten  and  signal  the  ships  to  lose  no  time  in  pre- 
paring for  battle.” 

Doing  as  he  was  told,  the  captain  hurried  to  his  post 
and  soon  the  clang  of  armor  and  note  of  preparation 
was  heard  throughout  the  fleet,  telling  that  the  command 
had  been  obeyed.  Leaving  Roxana  in  care  of  her  father, 
Alexander  hastened  to  join  the  captain,  and  soon,  on  the 
distant  horizon,  a fleet  with  all  sails  set  could  be  plainly 
seen  coming  rapidly  into  view. 

“It  is  Bordollis,  the  Lybian,  as  I thought.  See  his 
crimson  sails,  which  he  cares  not  to  hide,”  the  captain 
exclaimed  with  animation. 

“I  knew  not  till  an  hour  ago  that  pirates  still  frequented 
the  coast,”  Alexander  answered  absently  as  he  strove  to 
make  out  the  strength  of  the  approaching  fleet. 

“Yes,  while  the  King  concerns  himself  with  the  Gre- 
cian war,  and  his  ships  hover  about  the  Athenian  fleet, 
Bordollis  ravages  our  borders  with  bloody  hand.” 

“How  many  do  you  make  out?”  Alexander  asked, 
unable  to  determine  the  number  of  the  enemy. 

“Twenty,  if  I count  aright;  ten  triremes  and  as  many 
biremes.  They  come  on  like  sea-gulls,  their  sharp  prows 
parting  the  water  like  a knife  blade.” 

“This  pirate  goes  to  sea  in  stately  array  and  as  a king 
might  lead  an  army,”  Alexander  exclaimed,  scanning  the 
fleet  with  eager  eyes. 

“He  is  a king,  oh  Prince,  but  his  country  being  but  a 


192 


I skander 


speck  on  the  Lybian  shore  he  ekes  out  his  slender  reve- 
nues by  piracy,  as  you  see.” 

“As  many  others  have  done  with  less  excuse,”  Alex- 
ander answered,  remembering  the  tolerance  with  which 
piracy  was  regarded  by  the  world. 

“And  as  they  will  continue  to  do,  so  long  as  half-savage  ' 
men  love  gain,”  the  captain  responded,  straining  his  eyes 
to  make  out  the  movements  of  the  approaching  fleet. 

“They  draw  apart  to  form  a crescent,  the  better  to 
envelop  our  lesser  number.  Signal  the  commanders  to 
close  in,  forming  a wedge  behind  our  ship,  the  transports 
falling  back,”  Alexander  cried,  observing  the  enemy  ex- 
tend his  lines. 

“ ’Tis  our  only  hope  of  victory,”  the  other  responded 
soberly. 

Leaving  the  captain,  Alexander  hastened  to  inspect  the 
armament  of  the  ship  and  make  provision  fo.r  the  coming 
battle.  Ossa  and  his  sturdy  band  he  foiund  armed  and 
waiting  on  the  upraised  platform  of  the  middle  ship, 
where  they  were  available  for  attack  or  defense.  Bidding 
them  conceal  themselves  behind  the  protecting  walls,  he 
ascended  to  the  iron  cages  that  encircled  the  strong  masts. 
These,  as  he  expected,  he  found  filled  with  armed  men 
and  beside  them  missiles  and  pots  of  pitch  ready  to  hurl 
upon  the  approaching  enemy.  Reaching  the  prow  of 
the  vessel,  its  covered  way  was  supplied  in  like  manner 
with  needed  arms  for  the  waiting  soldiers.  Near  them 
missiles  and  balls  of  pitch  lay  about  the  rude  machine 
that  stood  at  hand  in  readiness  to  project  them  upon  the 
advancing  enemy.  Looking  down  from  the  prow  of  the 
vessel,  its  ram,  sheathed  with  bronze,  stood  outstretched 


193 


The  Lybian  King 

in  the  clear  water  like  the  nose  of  some  cruel  monster. 
On  the  ship's  front,  in  ornamentation,  an  eagle  perched 
its  extended  wings,  and  back  of  it,  on  either  side,  images 
of  tigers  displayed  their  length  with  open  mouths  and 
glistening  teeth.  Visiting  the  sides  of  the  noble  vessel, 
he  found  its  protected  way  stored  with  darts  and  javelins 
and  filled  with  armed  men  who  stood  silently  awaiting 
the  coming  combat.  Descending  to^  the  hold,  Alexander 
traversed  the  narrow  galleries  whereon  the  rowers  sat, 
four  deep  in  ranks,  one  above  the  other.  Captives  and 
slaves,  chained  to  their  benches,  the  faces  of  the  unhappy 
creatures  wore  a stolid  look  as  of  men  without  enterprise 
or  hope,  doomed  to  a life  of  degrading  servitude.  Of 
these,  the  more  robust  filled  the  upper  benches,  where 
the  long  and  carefully  balanced  oars  needed  greater 
strength  of  arm  and  body.  Scrutinizing  the  despairing 
men  with  pitying  eyes,  they  heeded  him  not,  but  turned 
away  their  faces  with  looks  of  sullen  discontent.  Taking 
his  stand  with  lofty  front  where  all  could  see  and  hear, 
he  cried  with  clarion  voice : 

‘^Comrades!  Grecians! — Alexander,  Prince  and  lover 
of  brave  men,  speaks  to  you.  He  thinks  not  of  birth  or 
fortune  in  the  stress  of  battle.  For  your  unhappy  state 
he  mourns  as  for  fellow-men.  At  last  your  hour  has 
struck.  Bordollis,  the  pirate  chief,  with  twenty  sail,  bears 
down  upon  us;  the  stronger,  we  may  conquer  if  we  fight 
with  courage  and  one  mind.  For  battles  ever  fall  to 
those  who  sustain  the  right  and  strive  courageously  for 
victory.  To  you,  men  of  sorrow,  victims  of  our  internal 
wars,"  he  went  on,  his  voice  ringing  out  like  a bugle  call, 


194  Iskander 

“I  grant  freedom  in  the  King’s  name,  from  the  hour  Bor- 
dollis  yields.” 

Hearing  him,  the  sullen  men  sat  still,  astonishment 
and  joy  depriving  them  of  utterance.  Then,  amidst  the 
clang  of  their  chains  and  the  sobs  that  burst  from  their 
throats,  as  the  thought  of  freedom  stirred  their  hearts, 
a great  shout  went  up  that  filled  the  ship  and  surrounding 
sea.  Saluting  them  with  uplifted  sword,  Alexander  hur- 
ried away  to  carry  like  assurance  to  the  other  vessels 
of  the  fleet.  Thus  he  went  on,  cheers  and  cries  of  happi- 
ness following  him  from  ship  to  ship,  as  he  carried  the 
glad  message  of  freedom  to  the  enslaved  and  despairing 
men. 

Returning,  elated  at  the  act  of  mercy,  he  hastened  to 
Roxana’s  side  and,  saluting  her,  cried  out : 

“Come  with  me,  sweet  Princess,  and  you,  Demetrius, 
to  the  secure  room  set  apart  for  sacred  offices.  There 
no  harm  can  reach  you.  You,  too,  Lysimachus,  come 
with  us,”  he  went  on,  observing  the  scared  face  and 
trembling  form  of  his  aged  teacher. 

“I  would  don  armor  and  fight  by  your  side,  brave 
Achilles,”  Lysimachus  ansv/ered,  with  c[uavering  voice; 
“not  be  cooped  up  with  women  and  children.” 

“Don  your  armor,  then,  if  you  will,  and  so  defend  the 
Princess,  with  these  brave  youths,”  he  answered,  running 
his  eyes  over  the  waiting  pages.  “Or  if  we  be  overcome,” 
he  went  on,  addressing  Demetrius  aside,  “let  not  the 
Princess  fall  alive  into  Bordollis’  hands.” 

“Think  not  of  me  in  this  hour  of  danger,  Iskander,” 
Roxana  cried,  knowing  his  thoughts  were  of  her,  “for  if 
you  fall  I will  not  survive  you.  Go,  sweet  love,  for  I 


195 


The  Lybian  King 

already  see  you  victorious  and  the  enemy  in  flight/’  and, 
pulling  down  his  face,  she  kissed  him  with  confiding  love. 
Returning  the  sweet  caress,  he  lifted  his  hand  in  stern 
admonition  to  Demetrius  and  the  others  as  he  hurried 
from  the  room.  Reaching  the  deck,  he  met  Oxyartes, 
accompanied  by  Artabazus  and  Bessus,  each  armed  and 
clad  in  steel. 

“We  come,  oh  Prince,”  Oxyartes  exclaimed,  “to  offer 
you  our  swords.  In  this  dire  struggle  ’tis  a happy  chance 
that  we  fight  in  a common  cause.” 

“We  have  not  many  swords,”  Artabazus  interposed, 
“but  all  are  at  your  command.  Place  us  where  you  will.” 

“Mithrines  is  missing  from  our  number,”  Bessus  ex- 
claimed, bowing  low,  “but  not  willingly.  Striving  to  put 
on  his  armor  despite  our  remonstrances,  he  fell  in  a dead 
faint  from  weakness,  and  so  lies  helpless  in  his  bed.” 

Thanking  them  in  the  King’s  name,  Alexander  bade 
them  stay  where  they  were,  the  better  to  guard  the  Prin- 
cess, or,  if  mishap  occurred,  to  be  at  hand  to  make  such 
disposition  as  need  be.  To  this  they  assenting,  he  hurried 
to  the  prow  of  the  vessel,  where  the  captain  stood  scan- 
ning the  approaching  enemy. 

“They  change  their  order  of  battle,  drawing  their  ships 
together  in  a mass,  hoping  to  run  us  down,”  Alexander 
exclaimed,  observing  Bordollis’  new  formation.  “I  like 
that  better,  for  thus  we  can  reach  them  the  quicker.  See! 
they  lower  their  sails  for  attack,  the  yellow  fiends  crowd- 
ing the  deck  as  if  all  Lybia  were  here.  Ah,  there  goes 
Bordollis’  emblem,  blood-red  with  upright  sword  and 
flaming  torch.  Brave  King!  You  show  your  colors  gal- 
lantly.” 


196 


Iskander 


Everything  being  now  in  readiness,  Alexander  turned 
about  and  surveyed  his  compact  fleet,  whereon  only  scat- 
tered sailors  were  visible  to  the  eye.  Satisfied  with  what 
he  saw,  he  raised  his  sword  as  the  signal  of  battle  and 
the  order  to  display  the  Macedonian  standard.  At  this 
the  trumpeter,  raising  his  bugle  to  his  lips,  gave  the  shrill 
order  to  advance.  And  now  the  ships  coming  within 
striking  distance,  the  Macedonian  bowmen  and  darters 
showing  themselves,  let  fly  clouds  of  arrows  and  javelins 
into  the  thick  ranks  of  the  eager  enemy.  Approaching 
still  nearer,  missiles  and  balls  of  burning  pitch  were 
thrown  in  quick  succession  on  the  crowded  decks  of  the 
pirate  fleet.  Directing  his  ship's  course,  Alexander  sought 
to  ram  Bordollis'  vessel,  but  the  latter,  turning  swiftly 
to  one  side,  evaded  the  deadly  stroke.  Missing  the  mark, 
the  Delphos,  shooting  forward,  struck  with  crushing  blow 
the  ship  that  followed  in  the  pirate's  wake.  Splitting 
it  asunder,  it  went  down  with  all  its  crew  ere  the  assailing 
vessel  could  wholly  free  itself  from  the  entangled  mass. 
Backing  away,  the  darters  swept  the  decks  of  the  sur- 
rounding ships  with  flying  missiles,  while  balls  of  burn- 
ing pitch  were  hurled  upon  the  vessels  further  off.  Beat- 
ing back  the  ships  that  threatened  him,  the  Delphos, 
forging  slowly  ahead,  lay  at  last  beside  that  of  the  pirate 
chief.  Leaving  Ossa  to  give  battle  to  the  enemy  on  the 
other  side,  Alexander  gave  the  signal  to  board  the  ship 
of  the  Lybian  King.  Standing  expectant  with  uplifted 
sword,  he  sprang  upon  the  enemy's  deck  as  the  ships 
crashed  heavily  together.  Uttering  the  fierce  war-cry  of 
their  country,  the  Companions  followed,  and  in  a moment 
the  air  was  filled  with  the  clash  of  arms  and  fierce  cries 


197 


The  Lybian  King 

of  the  combatants.  Gaining  a foothold,  the  long  swords 
of  the  Companions  swept  the  air  as  they  struck  down 
the  weapons  of  opposing  foes  or  forced  a way  into  the 
enemy’s  ranks.  Spreading  out  with  the  precision  of 
trained  soldiers,  that  each  might  have  room  in  which  to 
ply  his  weapon,  the  pirate  crew  fighting  in  a mass,  could 
by  no  means  stay  their  progress.  Outnumbering  the 
Macedonians,  new  men  seemed  to  rise  from  the  planks 
to  take  the  places  of  those  who  fell.  Bordollis,  fighting 
in  the  fore  of  his  vessel,  seeing  Alexander  at  the  other 
extremity  of  the  ship,  pushed  his  way  forward  to  con- 
front him.  The  Prince,  recognizing  the  Lybian  King 
by  his  towering  height  and  blood-red  plume,  disregarding 
all  others,  sought  in  like  manner  to  reach  his  enemy. 
Sweeping  aside  those  who  stood  in  their  way,  the  two 
at  last  confronted  each  other  in  the  middle  of  the  deck. 
Uttering  a savage  cry,  they  rushed  forward,  their  glitter- 
ing weapons  meeting  midway  in  the  air.  Thus  they 
fought  with  fierce  determination,  oblivious  of  all  around 
them,  but  without  advantage  to  either.  At  last,  Bordollis, 
being  the  taller  and  stronger,  unable  to  reach  his  enemy, 
sought  to  beat  down  Alexander’s  defense  by  greater 
strength  and  reach  of  arm.  But  the  latter,  being  the 
better  swordsman,  turned  his  weapon  aside  and,  taking 
advantage  of  the  opening,  sprang  forward,  piercing  the 
other’s  breast.  But  the  blow  doing  no  harm  save  tO' 
arouse  Bordollis,  the  latter,  rushing  in  anew,  with  mighty 
stroke  sought  to  cut  his  enemy  down.  Springing  back, 
Alexander  evaded  the  blow  and  in  return  touched  the 
mailed  front  of  his  enemy  with  his  blade.  Unable  to 
strike  an  effective  blow  and  filled  with  rage,  he  sprang 


198 


Iskander 


forward,  crowding  the  other  back  with  fast  and  furious 
play  of  weapon,  but  without  harm  to  the  Lybian  King. 
Alexander,  staying  his  hand,  in  turn  gave  way  as  if  ex- 
hausted or  grievously  hurt.  Bordollis,  seeing  this, 
crowded  upon  him  with  eager  haste,  upon  which  the 
Prince,  lunging,  fell  suddenly  as  if  stricken,  upon  his 
bended  knee.  At  this,  the  Lybian,  believing  he  had  re- 
ceived a mortal  hurt,  rushed  on  with  uplifted  sword  to 
put  an  end  to  the  struggle;  but  Alexander,  anticipating 
the  blow,  leaped  forward  ere  the  other’s  weapon  fell,  and 
crying  “For  the  King!”  plunged  his  sword  in  Bordollis’ 
body.  Stricken  with  death,  the  pirate  chief  still  sought 
to  strike  his  enemy  down,  but  Alexander,  grappling  him 
about  the  waist,  hurled  him  to  one  side,  withdrawing  his 
weapon  with  the  action.  At  this  the  blood  and  entrails 
of  Bordollis  bursting  from  the  gaping  wound,  he  could 
no  longer  hold  himself  aloft.  Seeing  that  death  ap- 
proached, he  lifted  himself  and  poising  his  ponderous 
blade  hurled  it  full  at  Alexander’s  head.  But  the  latter, 
evading  the  blow,  stood  still,  watching  in  pity  the  dying 
chief  as,  striving  to  stay  himself,  he  at  last  fell  forward 
and  expired. 

Engaging  anew  with  the  enemies  about  him,  the  strug- 
gle went  on  until  the  pirate  crew,  losing  hope,  slowly 
retreated  to  the  ship’s  side.  Here,  offering  some  slight 
resistance,  they  turned  suddenly  about  and  sprang  into 
the  sea,  hoping  thus  to  gain  the  side  of  some  friendly  ves- 
sel. Springing  forward,  Alexander  struck  down  Bordollis’ 
standard,  but  while  the  air  yet  rang  with  the  cry  of  vic- 
tory he  lifted  his  sword  aloft  to  his  companions  to  follow. 
Returning  to  his  own  ship  he  found  two  of  the  enemy’s 


199 


The  Lybian  King 

vessels  grappled  to  its  side.  Ossa  and  his  companions, 
unable  to  make  head  against  the  double  force,  fought  at 
the  ship’s  side,  keeping  those  opposed  at  bay,  but  accom- 
plishing nothing  more. 

Looking  down  on  the  enemy,  Alexander  beheld  a sight 
that  thrilled  him  to  the  heart,  for  in  the  midst  of  the 
pirate  crew,  back  to  back,  the  Persian  nobles  fought, 
their  swords  flashing  like  streams  of  light  as  they  de- 
fended themselves  or  struck  down  an  opposing  foe. 
Amidst  the  wild  confusion  and  clash  of  arms  the  pipes 
of  the  “Hungry  Horde”  suddenly  smote  upon  Alexander’s 
ear,  and  while  he  looked,  amazed,  the  sturdy  forms  of 
these  masterless  men  showed  above  the  side  of  the  pirate’s 
ship.  Reaching  the  deck,  they  lost  no  time,  and  without 
order  or  command  of  any  kind  charged  on  the  astonished 
foe  with  such  weapons  as  they  had.  Cheered  by  what  he 
saw,  Alexander  turned  to  his  own  ship  and  in  its  center 
beheld  Roxana  standing  alone,  watching  her  father  as 
he  struggled  in  the  midst  of  the  savage  foe.  Angered, 
he  looked  about  for  Demetrius  and  his  companions,  to 
discover  them  fighting,  with  sturdy  mien,  beside  Ossa 
and  his  brave  companions.  Behind  them,  in  futile  war, 
as  if  in  burlesque,  Lysimachus,  with  shrill  cries,  struck 
fierce  and  ineffectual  blows  at  the  enemy  over  the  heads 
of  those  before  him.  In  the  midst  of  the  pages,  to  Alex- 
ander’s great  distress,  he  saw  Hephestion,  without  cover, 
fighting  sword  in  hand,  the  blood  streaming  from  his 
unhealed  wounds.  Stirred  at  the  sight,  he  called  to  Ossa 
to  board  the  forward  vessel,  while  he,  raising  his  sword 
to  the  Companions,  sprang  upon  the  deck  of  the  hindmost 
ship.  Beating  back  those  who  stood  in  their  front,  the 


200 


Iskander 


Companions  raised  their  fierce  war-cry  and,  spreading 
out,  cut  down  and  scattered  those  before  them.  The 
pirate  crew,  assailed  in  the  rear  by  the  “Hungry  Horde” 
and  Persian  nobles,  crowded  to  one  side,  defending  them- 
selves as  best  they  could,  neither  giving  nor  asking  quar- 
ter. But  at  last,  their  leader  falling,  they  turned  and 
mounting  the  ship’s  side,  leaped  into  the  sea.  Giving  a 
cry  of  victory,  Alexander  and  those  about  him  sprang 
upon  the  forward  ship,  but  the  pirate  crew,  seeing  the 
overthrow  of  their  friends,  sought  not  to  defend  them- 
selves, but,  throwing  down  their  weapons,  turned  like 
the  others  and  plunged  into  the  sea. 

Thus  freed,  Alexander,  calling  to  his  followers  with 
sound  of  trumpet,  returned  to  his  own  ship,  urging  it 
forward  to  where  the  conflict  still  continued.  Seeing 
this  the  pirates,  disheartened  at  the  fall  of  their  chief  and 
the  dreadful  havoc  of  the  conflict,  hoisting  all  sails  steered 
for  the  open  sea.  Turning  about,  Alexander  signaled 
the  fleet  to  follow,  but  not  one  responded,  his  vessel  alone 
proving  to  be  unharmed.  Pursuing  the  enemy,  he  quickly 
overhauled  the  pirate  fleet,  and  seeing  this  the  crews  of 
the  hindmost  vessels  threw  down  their  arms  and  falling 
upon  their  knees  sought  their  pursuers’  mercy.  Sending 
soldiers  to  take  possession  of  the  ships  and  bidding  them 
spare  those  who  yielded,  Alexander  kept  on  his  way  till 
night  and  the  widely  scattered  enemy  rendered  further 
pursuit  impossible. 

Turning  about,  Alexander  lost  no  time  in  rejoining  his 
companions,  whom  he  found  busied  with  the  care  of  the 
dead  and  wounded.  Summoning  his  barge,  he  hastened 
to  the  different  ships,  freeing  the  slaves  and  bestowing 


201 


The  Lybian  King 

everywhere  a word  of  praise  or  loving  inquiry.  Return- 
ing at  last  to  his  own  vessel,  and  the  others  presently 
gathering  about  its  side,  the  newly  liberated  bondsmen, 
with  the  others  standing  on  the  bloody  decks,  hailed  him 
conqueror  with  continuous  cheers  of  welcome  and  ac- 
claim. Tears  filling  his  eyes  and  choking  his  utterance, 
he  lifted  his  plumed  helmet  in  grateful  thanks.  Seeing 
this,  all  with  one  accord  taking  up  the  paean  of  victory 
and  praise,  the  wide  expanse  was  filled  with  the  volume 
and  melody  of  the  glad  song.  Afterwards,  bringing  forth 
the  sacred  altar  and  placing  it  upon  the  upraised  platform 
of  the  ship  where  all  could  see  the  sacred  fire,  sacrifice 
was  offered  by  Alexander  to  Poseidon,  the  God  of  the 
Sea,  for  their  deliverance  from  death.  This  being  com- 
pleted and  everything  being  presently  in  readiness,  the 
ships  were  turned  toward  the  shore,  where  they  were  at 
last  anchored  for  the  night. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 


THE  LION  HUNT. 

Early  the  succeeding  morning  the  liberated  slaves,  ar- 
raying themselves  in  linen  tunics,  hastened  to  the  main- 
land, as  if  only  thus  could  they  be  sure  that  they  were 
free.  Satisfied,  they  gave  themselves  up  to  joyful  play, 
running  and  leaping  in  glad  abandonment  like  children 
freed  from  the  tyranny  of  school.  Soon  the  recollection 
of  the  past  recurring  to  them,  a stadium  was  formed 
and  its  boundaries  marked.  Here  the  younger  and  more 
fleet  of  foot  sought  to  outrival  each  other  in  running  the 
prescribed  distance,  while  the  more  stalwart  and  strong 
of  arm  threw  the  discus  in  eager  rivalry.  Ruder  men, 
emulous  of  the  others,  tried  their  skill  and  strength  in 
wrestling,  or  competed  for  mastery  with  bow  and  arrow. 
Those  who  had  once  been  soldiers  or  followers  of  the 
sea,  taking  ground  apart,  fought  mimic  battles,  or,  erect- 
ing targets,  tried  their  skill  anew  with  javelin  and  lance. 
Those  of  melancholy  mind  threw  themselves  down  beside 
the  murmuring  sea  to  gaze  on  Olynthus’  desolate  sight, 
from  whence,  long  years  before,  they  had  been  so  cruelly 
wrested. 

The  hardy  soldiers,  unable  to  sleep  in  the  cramped 
quarters  of  the  ships,  had  formed  a camp  beneath  the 
spreading  trees,  and  here  the  lofty  tent  of  Alexander 
stood.  But  now,  the  morning  being  somewhat  advanced 

(202) 


The  Lion  Hunt 


203 


and  he  having  returned  to  the  ship  to  seek  Roxana,  his 
tent  was  deserted  save  for  Demetrius,  who  sat  beneath 
the  silken  canopy  burnishing  the  helmet  of  his  master. 

“Why  waste  your  time,  brave  youth,  on  that  seamed 
and  battered  casque?”  Clitus  cried  derisively  as  he  ap- 
proached. 

“ ’Tis  a gift  I begged  of  the  Prince,  and  so  a thing  to 
be  prized,”  Demetrius  responded,  intent  upon  his  work. 

“I  thought  not  of  its  value  as  a relic,  and  you  do  well 
to  keep  it  as  a memento  of  the  stirring  day.” 

“Yes,  it  tells  the  story  of  the  battle  and  the  Prince’s 
part,”  Demetrius  replied,  scanning  the  now  glistening 
casque  with  admiring  eyes.  “Some  day,  when  I can 
wear  it,  I will  have  these  cuts  filled  with  molten  gold, 
all  save  this,”  he  added,  pointing  to  one  near  the  edge 
of  the  helmet.  “See,  ’twas  a wicked  stroke,  and  had  it 
been  a little  lower  our  joy  would  now  be  turned  to  tears 
and  cries  of  sorrow.” 

“Because  of  that  I would  the  sooner  hide  it,  lest,  seeing 
it  always,  I lost  the  favor  of  the  Gods  for  cursing  the 
dead  pirate.” 

“Such  cursing  would  avail  little,  Clitus,  for  ’twas  not 
a pirate  who  aimed  the  blow.” 

“Eye of  Cyclops!  ’Twas  a careless  friend  who  handled 
his  weapon  thus  loosely.  But  so  it  often  happens  that 
the  flying  lance  wounds  or  kills  a comrade  ere  it  reaches 
the  hated  foe,”  Clitus  answered  philosophically. 

“ ’Twas  not  a lance  that  hit  the  casque,  but  an  arrow 
tipped  with  steel,  as  you  may  see,”  Demetrius  answered, 
holding  up  the  helmet. 

“Therefore  the  more  likely  to  go  astray,”  Clitus  re- 


204 


Iskander 


sponded,  as  if  no  one  could  be  rightly  held  responsible 
for  a thing  so  uncertain  as  the  flight  of  an  arrow. 

“This  was  shot  by  no  friendly  hand,  good  Clitus. 
Nor  did  it  go  astray,  save  that  striking  too  high  it  pierced 
the  Prince’s  helmet  instead  of  the  armor  about  his  throat,” 
Demetrius  answered,  handing  the  casque  to  Clitus. 

Staring  blankly,  the  blood  rushed  to  Clitus’  face  and 
throat  as  he  cried : “Who  then  drew  the  bow,  if,  hitting 
the  mark,  the  arrow  was  not  shot  by  a pirate’s  hand  ?” 

“Mithrines’  creature  and  no  one  else,”  Demetrius  an- 
swered shortly.  “See  the  how  of  Thracian  make,  and 
here  the  arrow.” 

“Mithrines’  creature!”  Clitus  exclaimed,  astonished. 
“Give  both  to  me,  for  they  may  serve  a second  time,”  he 
went  on  grimly  as  he  examined  the  deadly  weapon. 

“Be  more  ready  than  1,  Clitus,  lest  another  time  the 
miscreant’s  stroke  may  not  miscarry.” 

“Fear  not,  brave  youth,  but  tell  me  how  it  chanced 
that  you  were  watching  when  the  creature  sought  to  kill 
the  Prince?” 

“Do  not  cry  out  so,  Clitus,  for  our  master  will  have 
nothing  said  or  done  that  can  give  Oxyartes  pain,”  Deme- 
trius answered,  looking  away  to  the  stately  ship  where 
Alexander  and  Roxana  stood,  hand  in  hand,  gazing  upon 
the  animated  scene. 

“You  are  a wise  youth  in  your  day,  Demetrius,  and 
fitly  chosen  for  a place  about  the  Prince’s  person.  But 
go  on,  and  low,  lest  the  very  grasshoppers  hear  our  speech 
and  spread  the  news.” 

“When  Bordollis’  ships  drew  near,  the  Prince,  sum- 
moning the  pages,bade  us  guard  the  Princess  in  the  sacred 


The  Lion  Hunt 


205 


room.  To  this  arrangement  she  assented,  but  no  sooner  did 
we  touch  the  pirate  ship  than  all  was  changed.  Hearing 
the  Prince’s  war-cry  as  he  sprang  upon  Bordollis’  deck, 
she  turned  upon  us  with  such  a burst  of  scorn  and  pas- 
sion as  I never  heard  before  from  woman’s  lips.  ‘Is  it 
for  such  cowardly  service,’  she  screamed,  ‘that  you  were 
bred?  Do  gallant  men  stand  idly  about  a worthless 
woman  when  others  fight  for  life  and  honor  ? For  shame ! 
for  know  you  I fear  not  the  strife  of  battle  more  than 
the  sun’s  heat.  Come,  then,  if  you  be  fit  to  breathe  in 
woman’s  presence  or  live  in  men’s  regard,’  and  pushing 
us  aside,  she  mounted  to  the  upper  deck,  we  following, 
shame-faced,  as  if  we  had  done  some  unmanly  thing.” 

“I  would  not  have  believed  it  of  the  soft  thing,”  Clitus 
murmured,  looking  away  to  where  the  Princess  stood 
beside  the  Prince. 

“Reaching  the  deck,  her  eye  sought  out  the  Prince 
and  seeing  his  waving  plumes  and  gleaming  sword  she 
smiled;  but  while  she  looked  her  eyes  fell  on  Mithrines’ 
slave  as  he  fitted  a feathered  arrow  to  his  bow.  No 
sooner  did  she  spy  him  than,  turning  to  me,  .she  cried  in 
terror : ‘Quick ! fly  to  his  side,  Demetrius,  and  see  that  he 
does  no  treacherous  thing.’  ” 

“If  she  fear  not  battle,  the  sweet  thing  has  yet  a wo- 
man’s tender  heart.” 

“Flying  to  do  as  she  commanded,  I was  yet  too  late 
to  stay  the  wretch’s  hand.  But  ere  he  could  fit  another 
arrow  to  his  bow,  reaching  his  side,  I drew  my  sword  and 
thrust  him  through  the  body.” 

“ ’Twas  a gallant  blow,  brave  youth.  But  the  Prin- 
cess? What  did  she  do  next?” 


206 


Iskander 


“Calling  me  to  her,  she  placed  this  chain  of  gold  about 
my  neck,  and  taking  me  in  her  arms  kissed  me  on  both 
my  cheeks,”  Demetrius  responded,  blushing. 

“I  would  it  had  been  me,”  Clitus  exclaimed  aside. 

“Then  looking  about  her  and  seeing  Ossa  contending 
against  a double  force,  she  cried : ‘Quick,  brave  youths, 
hasten  to  aid  him  in  the  unequal  strife,’  and  smiling  on 
us  as  we  hurried  away,  she  took  her  station  in  the  middle 
ship,  where  she  watched  the  conflict  till  it  closed.” 

“Fit  mate  for  Prince  or  King,”  Clitus  cried  in  admira- 
tion. “But  softly,  Demetrius ; put  by  the  battered  casque, 
for  here  comes  the  Prince  and  the  sweet  Roxana.” 

“Greeting,  brave  Clitus!”  Alexander  cried  as  he  ap- 
proached. “Two  vessels  captured  and  a third  burned  to 
the  water’s  edge  bear  evidence  of  your  skill  and  bravery. 
I know  not,”  he  went  on,  turning  to  the  Persian  envoys, 
as  he  embraced  the  sturdy  soldier,  “whether  he  be  greater 
on  land  or  sea.” 

“The  poorest  do  well  when  led  by  so  brave  a Prince,” 
Clitus  answered  with  modesty. 

“You  were  skilled  in  war,  Clitus,  ere  I could  hurl  a 
javelin  or  draw  a bow.  But  come,  it  is  agreed,  in  recom- 
pense for  yesterday’s  fatigue,  that  today  be  given  up  to 
the  pleasure  of  the  chase.  Hasten,  then,  good  Clitus,  to 
make  the  needed  preparations,”  the  Prince  directed  as  he 
turned  to  the  Persian  envoys,  exclaiming:  “What  say 
you,  noble  Persians,  will  you  join  us  in  the  exciting 
sport ?” 

“Thanks,  courteous  Prince,  ’twill  be  as  if  we  were 
once  more  in  our  own  country,”  Oxyartes  cried,  his  face 
lighting  up  with  pleasure. 


The  Lion  Hunt 


207 


“I  promise  you  such  adventure  as  may  be  found  in  the 
mountains  of  Bactria  or  the  wilds  of  the  Sacean  country, 
if  we  be  fortunate  in  our  quest,”  Alexander  exclaimed 
with  animation. 

“That  we  can  hardly  hope  for,  oh  Prince,”  Artabazus 
answered  courteously,  “unless,  indeed,  our  Asiatic  lion 
haunts  the  forests  about  your  Sacred  Mountain.” 

“In  early  days  the  lion  was  as  common  as  the  wolf  and 
bear  in  our  northern  wilds.  And  now,  war  having  given 
them  some  respite,  they  are  as  plentiful  as  when  Xerxes 
sought  in  vain  to  save  his  camels  from  their  hungry  jaws.” 

The  Persian  envoys  presently  taking  their  leave,  Alex- 
ander bade  Demetrius  hasten  to  send  beaters  into  the 
mountain  to  drive  the  game  down  into  the  valley.  Then 
turning  to  Roxana,  he  cried : 

“You,  sweet  love,  shall  watch  the  hunt  from  your 
dromedary,  that  you  may  be  spared  fatigue  or  fear  of 
accident.” 

“Would  you  put  me  on  a camel  after  what  you  have 
told  us  of  Xerxes’  beasts  of  burden?  Fie!  I thought 
you  more  tender  of  me,  brave  Prince,”  she  cried  as  she 
hurried  away  to  don  garments  suitable  for  the  chase. 

The  Thermaic  Gulf  (now  the  Gulf  of  Salonica),  on  the 
western  .shore  of  which  Alexander’s  fleet  lay  anchored, 
was  then  the  outlet  of  Macedonia  to  the  ^gean  Sea, 
as  it  is  today.  On  its  eastern  shore  the  narrow  peninsula, 
once  the  center  of  Grecian  wealth  and  culture,  was  nov/  a 
black  and  desolate  waste,  for  of  its  two  and  thirty  cities, 
Philip,  in  his  strife  with  Athens,  had  not  left  one  stand- 
ing to  mark  the  place.  All  had  been  looted  and  given  up 
to  the  flames,  their  inhabitants  being  put  to  death  or  sold 


208 


Iskander 


to  slavery.  On  the  western  shore  of  the  Gulf  scarce  a 
habitation  marked  the  plain  and  forest  that  lay  in  the 
shadow  of  Olympus.  Wars  and  the  scourge  of  outlaws 
and  marauding  bands  had  long  since  driven  its  inhabitants 
to  seek  other  homes,  so  that  now  it  was  given  up  to  soli- 
tude and  the  haunt  of  savage  beasts.  It  was  amid  such 
waste  of  plain  and  forest  so  dear  to  the  heart  of  the 
hunter  that  the  gay  cavalcade  presently  set  forth  in  quest 
of  pleasure  and  adventure.  Reaching  the  edge  of  the 
forest,  those  who  were  to  take  part  in  the  hunt  dismounted 
and  armed  themselves  with  such  weapons  as  the  nature 
of  the  sport  required. 

“Am  I to  be  set  apart  to  guard  the  Princess,  while 
others  join  the  kingly  sport?”  Lysimachus  cried  in  simu- 
lated rage,  as  the  hunters  were  about  to  take  their  de- 
parture, leaving  him  behind. 

“Let  him  go,  oh  Prince,”  Clitus  cried  in  derision.  “The 
hunt  were  but  a poor  thing  without  him,  and  I need  him 
not  to  guard  the  Princess.” 

Alarmed  that  his  words  should  be  taken  so  seriously, 
Lysimachus  cried  with  shaking  voice : 

“You  could  do  little  without  help,  good  Clitus,  were 
some  fierce  beast  to  assail  the  hapless  Princess.  I would 
fain  stay  behind,  then,  to  aid  you,  foregoing  the  noble 
sport.” 

“Nay,  let  Lysimachus  go  if  he  will,  sweet  Prince.  I 
ask  no  better  protection  than  Clitus’  strong  arm,”  Roxana 
cried,  amused,  turning  to  Alexander. 

“No,  let  him  remain,  lest,  as  he  says,  some  vengeful 
beast  breaking  through  endanger  your  very  life,”  Alex- 
ander answered  gently,  smiling  upon  his  aged  tutor. 


The  Lion  Hunt 


209 


“I  am  her  slave,  oh  Prince,  and  so  beat  down  the  wild 
desire,”  Lysimachus  responded  with  a grimace,  as  he  set- 
tled himself  on  his  horse  and  drew  his  cloak  about  him. 

“I  would  I could  share  in  your  sweet  contentment,” 
Clitus  muttered  under  his  breath,  impatient  at  being  left 
behind. 

Soon  everything  being  in  readiness,  the  hunters  entered 
the  forest,  each  taking  his  way,  so  that  everyone  might 
have  some  separate  chance.  As  they  advanced  within 
the  dark  shadows  of  the  trees,  the  cries  of  the  runners-in, 
far  up  the  mountain  side,  could  be  plainly  heard  as  they 
drove  the  frightened  animals  before  them.  In  this  man- 
ner Alexander  slowly  made  his  way  to  the  base  of  the 
heights  that  loomed  above  him,  without  adventure  of 
any  kind.  Then,  as  he  thought  to  turn  his  steps,  the 
undergrowth  parted  and  a lion,  stricken  with  fear,  stood 
trembling  before  him ; for,  however  fierce  these  noble  ani- 
mals may  be  when  assailed  or  driven  by  hunger,  they 
have  such  fear  of  man  at  other  times  that  they  will  by 
no  means  attack  him  or  stand  to  await  his  movements. 
Seeing  the  Prince  the  frightened  animal  turned  to  fly, 
but  Alexander,  lifting  his  bow,  quickly  let  fly  an  arrow 
at  the  bewildered  beast.  Hitting  the  mark,  the  missile 
did  no  harm  save  to  excite  the  animal’s  rage.  Feeling 
the  smart,  the  savage  beast  uttered  a frightful  roar  as  it 
wheeled  about  and  sank  to  the  ground  on  its  outstretched 
legs.  Thus  it  stayed  for  some  moments,  but  presently 
its  rage  increasing  it  moved  forward  with  sinuous  step, 
its  body  hugging  the  ground,  as  a cat  approaches  its  prey. 
When  in  this  way  it  had  come  some  distance  it  stopped 
and,  giving  voice  to  a savage  roar,  gathered  itself  for 


210 


Iskander 


the  final  charge.  Anticipating  the  movement,  Alexander, 
poising  his  javelin,  hurled  it  at  the  quivering  beast.  The 
flying  missile,  true  to  its  aim,  pierced  the  animal’s  shoul- 
der, but  striking  no  mortal  part,  the  lion  sprang  forward 
with  dreadful  leaps,  as  if  shot  from  a catapult.  At  this, 
Alexander,  taking  firm  hold  of  his  hunting  spear,  braced 
himself  for  the  final  onslaught  of  the  enraged  animal. 
Coming  near,  the  mighty  beast,  with  a frightful  roar  of 
rage  and  pain,  shot  high  in  the  air,  as  if  to  crush  its  foe 
with  its  descending  weight.  Calmly  awaiting  the  dread 
attack,  Alexander  received  the  animal  on  his  projecting 
spear,  but  only  to  wound  the  crazed  brute,  its  swift  descent 
confusing  his  eye  and  weakening  the  final  stroke.  The 
lion  bearing  Alexander  back,  he"  grasped  his  hunting 
knife,  holding  the  animal  at  bay  with  his  disengaged  arm, 
about  which  his  cloak  was  loosely  wrapped. 

While  Alexander  was  thus  engaged,  Clitus,  coming 
up  unperceived,  beheld  the  approach  of  the  lion  and  Alex- 
ander standing  motionless  before  it.  As  he  stopped  to 
await  the  issue  of  the  struggle  a movement  in  the  under- 
growth caught  his  eye,  and,  thinking  an  animal  threat- 
ened, he  drew  his  bow  ready  to  let  fly  an  arrow,  but  in- 
stead of  savage  beast  the  white  face  and  scowling  visage 
of  Mithrines’  creature  showed  itself  in  the  half-parted 
bushes.  The  intruder,  discovering  Alexander’s  fixed 
attention,  advanced  with  cautious  step  near  to  the  spot 
where  the  Prince  stood  motionless  awaiting  the  lion’s 
onslaught.  At  last,  assured,  the  base  creature  stopped 
and,  taking  firm  hold  of  his  hunting  spear,  poised  it  aloft, 
prepared  to  hurl  it  at  his  unsuspecting  victim;  but  while 
the  weapon  was  thus  uplifted  for  the  dreadful  stroke. 


The  Lion  Hunt 


211 


Clitus,  drawing  his  bow  to  its  utmost  limit,  let  fly  an 
arrow  full  at  the  exposed  body  of  the  murderous  wretch. 
And  not  in  vain,  for  taking  its  swift  and  noiseless  flight 
it  buried  itself  to  the  feathered  shaft  in  the  bcsdy  of  its 
victim. 

“A  brave  shot,  for  had  it  missed  the  Prince’s  life  had 
paid  the  forfeit,”  Roxana  cried  in  rapture,  hastening  to 
his  side. 

“You  here?  God  of  the  hills ! The  Prince  will  kill  me 
for  abandoning  my  charge,  once  he  knows  you  have  been 
brought  in  danger,”  Clitus  cried,  stricken  with  remorse 
and  fear. 

“Nay,  ’twould  have  made  no  difference,  for  I would 
have  followed  had  you  stayed  behind.  But  see,  Clitus, 
quick!  the  lion  has  Iskander  down,”  she  cried  in  fright 
as  she  ran  forward  to  where  the  Prince  lay  struggling 
with  the  ferocious  brute. 

“Keep  back,  keep  back,  lest  running  in  you  both  be 
killed,”  Clitus  cried  as  he  drew  his  hunting  knife  and 
hurried  after  her. 

But  ere  either  could  reach  the  Prince’s  side,  Alexander, 
disengaging  his  weapon,  plunged  it  to  the  handle  in  the 
noble  animal’s  heart.  Dying,  the  stricken  beast  relaxed 
its  hold  and  would  have  crept  away,  but  with  the  motion, 
its  life  exhausted,  it  fell  dead  beside  its  prostrate  enemy. 

“Lion  against  Lion,  and  the  better  won!”  Clitus  cried 
in  admiration  as  the  Prince  sprang  to  his  feet. 

Hastening  to  Alexander’s  side  Roxana  grasped  him  in 
her  arms  her  deep  emotion  depriving  her  of  speech.  Sur- 
prised he  held  her  fast,  forgetting  all  save  that  she  was 
there  and  unharmed.  Thus  they  stood,  clasped  in  each 


212 


Iskander 


other’s  arms,  their  hearts  too  full  for  utterance.  At  last 
disengaging  herself  she  cried : 

“ ’Tis  only  cowardice,  Iskander,  that  overcomes  me.” 

“Cowardice!  brave  woman,  you  know  not  what  it  is,” 
he  answered,  with  tender  affection,  smoothing  her  dis- 
heveled hair. 

Taking  hold  of  Alexander’s  hand  and  looking  down  on 
the  noble  beast  she  murmured : 

“ ’Twas  a foolish  thing,  Iskander,  to  attack  the  animal 
alone,  in  this  hidden  place.  Our  Kings,  who  know  no 
fear,  never  thus  expose  themselves  when  hunting  such 
mighty  game.” 

“There  is  little  danger,  sweet  love,  if  the  hunter  but 
keep  firm  hold  of  his  knife  and  lose  not  heart,”  he  an- 
swered, wiping  his  blade  on  the  green  turf.  “But  is  it  as 
before,  Clitus,  that  in  disobeying  my  commands,  you  have 
still  obeyed  by  doing  as  the  Princess  ordered  ?” 

“Do  not  reproach  the  brave  man,  sweet  Prince,  for  I 
was  not  disposed  to  stay  behind.  And  fortunate  it  was, 
that  Clitus  followed  close  upon  you,  for  thus  he  warded 
off  the  dreadful  stroke  Mithrines  threatened  from  behind,” 
she  cried,  looking  toward  the  spot  where  the  assassin 
lay. 

“What  mean  you?”  Alexander  exclaimed  surprised. 

“See!  there  lies  the  wretch,  stricken  by  Clitus’  arrow, 
while  in  the  very  act  of  striking  you  as  you  faced  the 
other  way,”  she  answered,  pointing  to  the  outstretched 
figure. 

“ ’Twas  the  lion  he  sought  to  kill  not  me,  sweet  Prin- 
cess. No  one  could  do  so  cruel  a thing.” 

“No!  ’twas  for  you  he  meditated  the  stroke.” 


The  Lion  Hunt 


213 


“ ’Tis  true,  oh  Prince,  or  may  I never  draw  sword 
again,”  Clitus  interposed. 

Still  thinking  them  mistaken  Alexander  hurried  to  the 
side  of  the  assassin.  Kneeling  down  and  discovering 
some  signs  of  life,  he  lifted  the  head  of  the  fallen  man, 
bathing  the  pallid  face  with  water  from  his  drinking 
horn.  Revived,  the  wounded  man  opened  his  eyes,  star- 
ing blankly,  seeming  not  to  know  where  he  was  or  that 
he  had  been  hurt;  but  at  last,  fixing  his  eyes  on  Alexander 
and  recognizing  him,  he  uttered  a frightful  cry  as  he 
sought  to  push  him  off.  The  Prince  paying  no  heed, 
continued  to  bathe  his  face  with  the  refreshing  water, 
striving  the  while  to  soothe  his  agitation  with  kindly 
words.  Seeing  this  the  other  presently  lay  still,  and  fix- 
ing his  fast  fading  eyes  upon  Alexander,  cried  in  a 
choked  voice: 

“Know  you  not,  oh  Prince,  that  I sought  to  kill  you? 
Yes,  as  my  brothers  have  before  me.  But  all  in  vain, 
for  the  Gods  have  you  in  their  keeping,”  he  went  on, 
pressing  his  hand  to  his  wounded  side. 

“What  cause  of  anger  have  you  against  me,  unhappy 
man,  for  surely  I have  never  wronged  you?”  Alexander 
asked,  scrutinizing  the  other. 

“No.  We  knew  naught  of  you : ’twas  against  Philip, 
the  King.” 

“The  King?” 

“Yes,  and  a deadly  wrong,  past  all  redress.  But 
water,  water,  I must  not  die  ere  I confess  my  sin  against 
you.”  Alexander  moistening  his  parched  lips  and  bath- 
ing his  face,  the  wretched  man,  presently  reviving,  half 
raised  himself  and  fixing  his  sunken  eyes  on  the  Prince’s 


214 


Iskander 


face,  cried  out:  “ ’Twas  at  the  great  siege,  the  siege  of 
Byzantium,  where  I and  my  three  brothers  fought  on 
the  King’s  side.  Thus  one  day  when  we  were  absent  on 
some  pressing  duty,  thinking  no  harm,  the  hipparch  and 
his  creatures  breaking  in,  bore  away  our  wives.  Seeking 
to  regain  them  and  revenge  the  wrong,  we  killed  the 
wretch  and  those  who  aided  him,  in  open  strife.  For 
this  the  King  ordered  that  we  be  scourged  and  afterward 
put  to  death.  Escaping  through  the  connivance  of  our 
comrades  we  fled  to  Sardis,  swearing  an  oath  to  the  Gods 
to  do  naught  in  life  that  did  not  look  to  Philip’s  death. 
Our  story  reaching  Mithrines’  ears,  he  gave  us  employ- 
ment about  the  castle  and,  when  setting  out  for  Greece, 
attached  us  to  his  person.  In  this  way  coming  upon 
you  where  the  Thebans  fought,  we  thought  to  kill  you 
and  thus  revenge  ourselves  upon  the  King.  But  now  all 
my  brothers  being  dead,  I follow,  our  oath  left  unful- 
filled. Justly  do  we  die,  ye  listening  Gods,  for  seeking 
thus  to  avenge  Philip’s  crimes,”  and  ceasing,  the  unhappy 
man  closed  his  eyes  as  if  in  death.  Presently  opening 
them,  he  went  on  with  beseeching  voice,  clutching  Alex- 
ander’s hand:  “You  pardon  us,  sweet  Prince,  for  we 
were  crazed  and  knew  not  what  we  did  ?” 

“I  have  naught  to  pardon,  wretched  man,”  Alexander 
answered  with  broken  voice.  “Pray  to  the  Gods,  for 
naught  else  can  avail  you  now.” 

To  this  the  other  made  no  response,  but  fixing  his 
glazed  eyes  on  the  snow-clad  summit  of  the  Sacred  Moun- 
tain, he  died,  murmuring  a prayer.  When  he  was  dead 
the  Prince  arose  to  his  feet,  his  eyes  stained  with  tears. 


The  Lion  Hunt 


215 


and  putting  his  arm  about  Roxana’s  trembling  form,  led 
her  in  silence  from  the  gloomy  forest. 

Note.  John  Williams,  the  historian,  in  his  account  of  the  Con- 
quest of  Persia,  describes  Alexander’s  encounter  single-handed  and 
on  foot,  while  on  a hunting  excursion,  with  “an  enormous  lion  which, 
roused  from  its  lair  faced  the  young  King.”  Alexander,  bidding  his 
companions  retire,  “receiving  the  animal’s  spring  on  the  point  of  his 
hunting  spear  with  so  much  judgment  and  coolness  that  the  weapon 
entering  a vital  part  proved  instantly  fatal.”  The  danger  of  the 
encounter  was  so  great,  however,  that  at  a solemn  assembly  of  the 
nobles  and  officers  of  the  Macedonian  army,  it  was  decreed  that 
thenceforth  the  King  should  not  combat  wild  beasts  on  foot  nor  hunt 
without  being  personally  attended  by  a certain  number  of  great  of- 
ficers. The  same  historian  goes  on  to  say  that  this  was  not  the  first 
time  in  which  Alexander’s  life  had  been  endangered  by  wild  beasts, 
and  refers  to  a hunting  piece  in  bronze  where  the  King  is  fighting 
with  a lion  while  Craterus  is  seen  hastening  to  his  assistance. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 


THE  PRINCESS  PARCLEDES. 

On  his  return  to  the  camp,  Alexander,  grieved  and 
saddened  by  what  had  occurred,  gave  orders  for  the  im- 
mediate departure  of  the  fleet.  Thus  in  the  early  night 
the  anchors  were  weighed  and  the  ships  responding  to 
sail  and  oar  quickly  glided  into  the  open  waters  of  the 
gulf.  Turning  their  prows  to  the  north,  those  who 
looked  could  see,  far  to  the  east,  Athos’  lonely  height  as 
it  glimmered,  a mere  speck  on  the  moon-lit  waters. 
Nearer  by,  the  plains  of  Chalcidice  wasted  by  Philip’s 
conquering  armies,  showed  like  a black  line  across  the 
blue  of  the  eastern  sky.  Here,  where  a little  while  before, 
populous  cities  and  smiling  hamlets  met  the  eye,  only  the 
cries  of  savage  animals  now  disturbed  the  silence  of  the 
night.  Not  that  Philip  was  more  cruel  than  men  of  his 
time,  but  that  his  aims  and  ambitions  were  greater,  and 
the  means  he  used  commensurate  with  the  abuses  to  be 
remedied.  While  others,  wrangling  over  the  rights  of 
petty  states,  kept  Greece  disturbed,  Philip,  wise  and  mas- 
terful, brought  all  under  subjection  to  a common  purpose. 
While  Grecian  leaders  declaimed  or  dreamed  of  peace 
and  strength  without  unity,  he  alone  knew  that  it  was 
but  a phantasy  of  the  mind.  Offering  security  to  all,  he 
laid  his  mighty  hand  on  those  who  sought  to  perpetuate 
the  political  evils  of  the  past.  Such  was  Philip,  the  King 
of  men.  But  Alexander,  his  son  and  heir,  forgetful  of 

(210) 


The  Princess  Parcledes  217 

his  part,  no  longer  dreamed  of  men  or  governments.  His 
thoughts  were  of  his  love,  the  sweet  Roxana,  who  was 
thenceforth  to  form  the  silver  lining  to  the  black  cloud 
of  war  that  in  a few  short  months  would  claim  him  for 
the  remainder  of  his  eventful  life.  Beyond  the  Asiatic 
border  he  saw  only  her  image;  and,  seeing  it  thus  in  the 
golden  light  of  love,  its  conquest  so  long  dreamed  of,  was 
forgotten  in  the  happiness  of  the  present  moment.  Of 
this  the  Persian  King  knew  naught  and  intent  upon  the 
destruction  of  those  who  threatened  him,  all  that  the 
golden  hoards  of  Persia  could  accomplish  he  freely  gave 
in  the  accomplishment  of  his  set  purpose.  Mithrines,  his 
pliant  tool,  baffled  in  the  attempts  already  made  to  destroy 
the  Prince,  now  impatiently  awaited  his  arrival  at  Pella 
for  a more  favorable  opportunity;  for  there,  amid  the 
strivings  and  bitter  hatreds  of  Philip’s  court,  he  doubted 
not  he  would  be  able  to  accomplish  both  the  King’s  and 
Alexander’s  death.  Roxana’s  jealous  love,  early  divin- 
ing his  murderous  purpose,  sought  in  vain  to  warn  the 
Prince,  but  he,  disdaining  his  enemy,  only  smiled  upon 
her  fears  or  stilled  them  with  a kiss. 

Such  was  the  threatening  aspect  in  Macedonia’s  kingly 
life,  when  Alexander’s  noble  ship  turned  its  sharp  prow 
into  the  placid  waters  of  the  Lydias.  Far  in  advance  of 
the  attendant  vessels,  she  plowed  her  swift  way  toward 
the  capital,  paying  no  heed  whatever  to  those  that  fol- 
lowed. Thus  it  was  in  the  early  morning  as  Alexander 
and  Roxana  standing  in  the  prow  of  the  Delphos,  all 
unconscious  of  those  about  them,  watched  the  unfolding 
landscape  with  eager  interest. 

“There!  sweet  Princess,”  Alexander  at  last  exclaimed. 


218 


Iskander 


pointing  to  the  north,  “in  the  center  of  this  wide  expanse 
lies  Pella;  and  our  journey’s  end,”  he  concluded  with 
sorrowing  voice,  as  if  wishing  the  capital  were  at  the 
further  extremity  of  the  kingdom. 

“ ’Tis  a peaceful  plain  wherein  nothing  disturbs  the 
sweet  repose,”  she  answered  softly,  surveying  the  smiling 
landscape  whereon  no  house  or  man  appeared. 

“No,  for  here  it  is  as  nature  left  it  save  where  some 
rude  shepherd  guards  his  flocks  or  the  hunter  stalks  his 
game.  But  some  day,  and  not  far  distant,”  Alexander 
responded,  as  if  in  excuse  of  the  King  for  locating  his 
capital  in  the  wide  expanse,  “farms  and  noble  habitations 
will  dot  the  verdant  plain  now  given  up  to  solitude.” 

“I  like  it  better  as  it  is,  for  man  only  disfigures  Nature’s 
handiwork  by  his  presence.” 

“If  that  be  true  of  men  ’tis  not  so  of  women,  sweet 
Princess,  as  will  presently  appear — if  indeed,  she  hides 
not  her  sweet  face  behind  the  door,”  Clitus  here  inter- 
posed with  the  freedom  of  a soldier;  for  that  brave 
and  ingenuous  man,  liking  not  the  separation  from  the 
Prince,  had  early  asked  to  be  transferred  to  Alexander’s 
ship;  and  this  being  granted,  he  now  stood  near  the 
Prince  and  Roxana  as  the  Delphos  swiftly  traversed  the 
windings  of  the  picturesque  stream. 

Making  no  reply,  Alexander  and  his  companion  stood 
still,  well  knowing  that  Clitus  in  his  own  good  time 
would  explain  the  meaning  of  his  words.  Nor  was  it 
long  delayed,  for  approaching  an  obscure  place  in  the 
river,  he  cried  in  rapture: 

“There  it  is!  The  very  spot,  with  its  ambuscade  and 
close  cover  of  trees  and  willows !” 


The  Princess  Parcledes  219 

“What  is  it,  good  Clitus,  for  I can  see  nothing?” 
Roxana  asked,  scanning  the  river  in  their  front. 

“The  abode  of  Eurydice,  the  fairy  of  the  plain,  sweet 
Princess,”  Clitus  answered,  mounting  to  the  top  of  the 
covered  way. 

“I  see  no  house  nor  sign  of  one,”  Roxana  answered 
doubtingly.  “Or  does  she  live  in  some  enchanted  cave 
or  hidden  grotto  ?”  she  queried  with  smiling  countenance. 

“Come  hither  if  you  will,  sweet  Princess,  for  the  hut  is 
hidden  by  the  undergrowth  from  where  you  stand.  See !” 
he  went  on,  pointing  to  an  opening  in  the  trees  as  the 
Prince  and  Roxana  joined  him  on  the  elevated  platform, 
“a  house,  strong  as  a fortress  and  rough  as  the  face  of  a 
weather-beaten  cliff.  There,  within  that  roomy  and  ill- 
built  hut  the  fairy  lives.” 

“Alone?  Or  has  she  some  gentle  companion  to  keep 
her  company?”  Roxana  asked,  pleased  at  Clitus’  speech. 

“With  her  mother,  who,  robed  in  black,  with  pale  and 
melancholy  visage,  might  be  the  guardian  of  the  spirit 
world,”  Clitus  replied,  as  if  reciting  from  some  Grecian 
tragedy. 

“I  know  the  hut,”  Alexander  interposed,  scanning  it 
attentively,  “and  have  often  found  shelter  for  the  night 
beneath  its  roof  when  hunting  in  the  wide  expanse. 
’Twas  once  the  lodge  of  Alexander,  built  by  him  when 
Mardonius,  the  Persian  general,  held  Northern  Greece 
in  bondage.  Here  the  brave  King  lived  in  retirement 
that  he  might  be  near  the  Grecian  border  and  yet  not 
have  it  known  that  he  was  there.” 

“Do  the  Macedonian  Kings  still  make  some  use  of  the 
lonely  habitation?”  Roxana  asked  with  curious  interest. 


220 


Iskander 


“No!  ’twas  given  up  to  the  bats  and  owls  a hundred 
years  or  more  ago.” 

“And  the  fairies,  Iskander,”  Roxana  exclaimed,  turn- 
ing to  Clitus. 

“Built  by  the  great  King,”  Clitus  interposed  with  senti- 
mental voice,  “when  his  throne  rocked  in  the  balance 
like  a reed  in  the  wind,  it  now  offers  asylum  to  his 
stricken  descendants.  For  such  is  its  present  use,  oh 
Prince,”  Clitus  went  on  soberly,  as  if  not  caring  to  pro- 
long the  mystery. 

“You  jest,  Clitus,  for  the  hut  was  long  since  abandoned 
as  I say.” 

“To  be  occupied  anew,  please  you,  sweet  Prince.  For 
’twas  there  we  carried  Orestes  when  so  foully  set  upon. 
Bearing  him  to  the  door  we  were  admitted  by  Eurydice, 
the  fairy  Princess,  when  who  should  presently  appear, 
but  hei'  mother,  the  widow  of  Menetaus,  the  King’s  half 
brother.  He  who  fell  at  the  sacking  of  Olynthus,”  Clitus 
concluded,  not  caring  to  be  more  explicit  as  to  the  man- 
ner of  the  Prince’s  death. 

“The  Princess  Parcledes!”  Alexander  exclaimed  in 
astonishment.  “I  knew  not  that  she  survived  her  hus- 
band.” 

“I  remember  the  Prince  as  if  it  were  but  yesterday, 
though  twenty  years  and  more  have  passed  since  he  fled 
the  country,”  Lysimachus  here  interposed  with  melan- 
choly voice. 

“What  manner  of  man  was  he?”  Alexander  asked, 
greatly  interested  in  the  history  of  the  unhappy  Prince. 

“A  shapely,  sad-eyed  man,  with  flaxen  hair  and  kingly 
mien,”  Lysimachus  answered.  “Amyntas,  his  father. 


The  Princess  Parcledes  221 

fearing  for  his  life,  sent  him  as  a youth  to  Athens  to  be 
educated.  But  when  the  King  died  and  the  throne  be- 
came vacant,  the  Attic  chatterers,  for  purposes  of  their 
own,  encouraged  him  to  lay  claim  to  the  crown.  Thus 
it  happened  that  he  was  finally  brought  into  conflict  with 
Philip  to  his  utter  undoing.” 

“ ’Tis  his  widow,  the  Princess  Parcledes  who  now 
occupies  the  hut  and  who  received  and  nursed  Orestes,” 
Clitus  added  with  emphatic  voice. 

“But  ’twas  reported  that  she  was  lost  at  Olynthus  and 
Eurydice,  her  child,  as  well,”  Alexander  answered,  sur- 
prised at  what  he  heard. 

“So  it  has  been  supposed,  oh  Prince.  But  Menetaus, 
wise  and  prudent,  fearing  a disastrous  end  to  the  siege, 
early  sent  the  Princess  and  his  daughter  with  all  his 
treasures  to  Athens.  There  they  remained  after  his  death 
until  at  last  Parcledes  petitioning  King  Philip  for  per- 
mission to  return  to  her  own  country,  he  gave  her  this 
abandoned  lodge  of  the  old  King  for  a habitation, promis- 
ing her  protection  so  long  as  she  did  not  meddle  with 
affairs  of  state.” 

“If  what  you  say  be  true  ’twould  be  a discourteous  act 
to  pass  her  door  without  some  kindly  greeting,”  Alex- 
ander exclaimed,  and  signaling  the  ship  to  stop  he  called 
to  the  captain  to  man  the  barge. 

“Come,  Roxana,  you  shall  accompany  me.  ’Tis  a 
happy  chance  that  throws  these  distressed  women  across 
your  gentle  path,”  and  bidding  Clitus  attend  them  they 
descended  and  took  their  places  in  the  waiting  barge. 

“The  shore  which  swarmed  with  slaves  when  I was 
here  before,  now  seems  strangely  still,”  Clitus  exclaimed. 


222 


Iskander 


peering  forward,  as  the  barge  shot  through  the  willows 
that  hid  the  landing  from  the  river. 

“Well  it  may,  Clitus,  for  the  place  is  beset  by  a maraud- 
ing band,”  Alexander  cried  pointing  to  the  open  space 
back  of  the  hut,  where  armed  men  surrounded  the  Prin- 
cess and  her  daughter. 

“Beard  of  Cyclops ! ’tis  the  Dardanian  mercenaries,  as 
you  may  see  by  their  short  swords,  who  deserted  the 
King’s  standard  at  Cheronea.” 

Returning  no  answer,  Alexander  grasped  the  bugle 
that  hung  by  his  side,  and  placing  it  to  his  lips  blew  the 
call  of  the  Companion  Cavalry.  Not  waiting  response, 
or  for  the  barge  to  come  fully  to  shore,  he  leaped  into 
the  shallow  stream  followed  by  Clitus.  Drawing  their 
swords  with  the  cry  “For  the  King,”  they  rushed  upon 
the  marauding  band ; but  the  latter  recognizing  the  Com- 
panion call,  abandoned  their  prey  and  mounting  their 
horses  in  hot  haste  fled  over  the  hill  in  wild  confusion. 
Roxana  following  on  and  presently  rejoining  Alexander, 
they  hastened  to  the  side  of  Parcledes  and  her  daughter, 
and  putting  their  arms  about  the  distressed  women,  com- 
forted them  with  soothing  words  and  promises  of  protec- 
tion. Parcledes  at  last  recognizing  Alexander  by  some 
word  of  Clitus,  dropped  on  her  knees  and  pulling  her 
daughter  down  beside  her,  covered  his  hands  with  tears 
and  kisses. 

“Weep  not,  nor  kneel  to  me,  sweet  cousin,”  Alexander 
exclaimed  with  gentle  voice,  as  he  lifted  them  to  their 
feet  and  clasped  them  in  his  arms.  “Our  kingly  house 
has  not  so  many  princesses  that  those  bereft  and  unhappy 
should  lack  the  love  and  protection  of  their  kindred,”  and 


The  Princess  Parcledes  223 

partly  leading  and  partly  supporting  Parcledes,  they 
gained  the  cover  of  the  house.  Roxana,  following  slowly 
with  Eurydice,  so  won  upon  the  frightened  child  by  her 
gentle  ways  and  tender  sympathy,  that  ere  they  had 
traversed  half  the  distance  the  young  girl’s  confidence 
and  love  was  all  her  own.  Entering  the  spacious  room, 
Alexander  turning  to  Parcledes  exclaimed  with  gentle 
voice : 

“How  comes  it,  sweet  cousin,  that  you  live  thus  isolated 
and  unguarded  ? Surely  it  is  not  the  King’s  doing  ?” 

“No.  ’Tis  my  own  act,  for  I chose  this  royal  house 
in  preference,  and  doing  so  Philip  assented  to  my  pro- 
posal. Nor  would  another  abode  have  saved  me  from 
the  chance  attack,  for  ’twas  not  the  act  of  robbers  as  you 
think,  but  comes  from  those  who  seek  the  life  of  the 
gentle  youth,  Orestes.” 

“Orestes!  Who  could  wish  to  do  him  further  harm,” 
Alexander  exclaimed,  surprised  at  her  speech. 

“I  know  not,  except  that  spies  haunting  the  thickets 
about  the  hut,  have  sought  information  from  my  slaves 
regarding  the  poor  youth  for  a week  or  more;  and  today 
the  marauding  band  breaking  down  my  doors,  demanded 
that  he  be  delivered  up  to  them.  Happily,  seeing  their 
approach  and  fearing  their  errand,  we  had  hid  the  youth 
in  Alexander’s  secret  chamber.” 

“What  followed  when  they  found  him  gone,  sweet 
cousin,  if  the  telling  does  not  distress  you?” 

“Filled  with  rage,  the  leader  of  the  band  espying 
Eurydice,  seized  upon  her  and  bore  her  away.  I,  fol- 
lowing, begged  on  my  knees  not  to  be  separated  from  my 
child;  and  thus  you  found  us,”  the  unhappy  woman  an- 
swered, clasping  her  daughter  in  her  arms. 


224 


Iskander 


While  they  were  occupied  in  this  manner  Clitus  ap- 
proached and  being  welcomed  by  Parcledes,  he  lost  no 
time  in  making  inquiries  concerning  Orestes  for  whom 
he  had  been  vainly  searching. 

“Thinking  him  in  danger  we  concealed  him,  good 
Clitus,  in  Alexander’s  strong  room  where  he  now  lies 
attended  by  the  faithful  leech.” 

“I  would  I might  see  and  comfort  the  brave  youth,” 
Clitus  answered,  distressed  at  what  she  said. 

“I  will  show  you  the  way  and  gladly  if  I may,”  Eury- 
dice  interposed,  hurrying  forward,  a blush  mantling  her 
fair  cheeks. 

“The  very  guide  I would  have  chosen,  sweet  Princess,” 
Clitus  exclaimed  gallantly,  saluting  the  gentle  maid. 

Hastening  into  an  adjoining  room  and  opening  a hid- 
den door  she  led  him  to  an  upper  room.  Here  by  the 
dim  light  he  discovered  Orestes  lying  pale  and  haggard 
on  a cot.  Seeing  him  the  brave  youth  uttered  a feeble 
cry,  as  he  sought  to  grasp  Clitus’  outstretched  hands. 

“Eye  of  Cyclops!  sweet  child,  take  it  not  so  much  to 
heart,”  Clitus  cried  with  moist  eyes.  “ ’Tis  the  fate  of 
soldiers  and  in  a little  while  you  will  be  about  your  busi- 
ness as  before.  Is  it  not  so?”  he  went  on,  turning  to 
Jaron,  who,  bending  over  Orestes’  wasted  body,  sought 
to  stay  the  blood  which  slowly  trickled  from  the  reopened 
wound. 

“IvCt  us  hope  so,  good  friend,”  Jaron  answered  ab- 
sently, as  he  busied  himself  over  the  wounded  man,  “but 
the  strife  below  and  the  cries  of  women  came  near  to 
costing  the  youth  his  life,”  and  beckoning  Eurydice  to 
Orestes’  side  he  bade  her  soothe  him  into  sleep,  or  some 


The  Princess  Parcledes  225 

forgetfulness,  “for  otherwise  I see  no  hope  of  staying 
the  flow  of  blood.” 

Doing  as  she  was  told,  the  gentle  maid  threw  herself 
on  her  knees,  and  placing  her  face  beside  Orestes’, 
smoothed  his  hair  comforting  him  the  while  with  words 
of  encouragement  and  tender  sympathy,  so  that  presently 
responding  to  the  soft  caress,  he  fell  off  into  a gentle 
slumber.  Seeing  this,  Jaron  rested  and  turning  to  Clitus, 
asked : 

“How  happened  it,  brave  man,  that  you  brought  relief 
and  in  the  very  nick  of  time?” 

“ ’Twas  not  I,  Jaron,  but  the  Prince,  who  stopped  to 
pay  Parcledes  a visit  as  he  passed,  and  the  outlaws  hear- 
ing the  Companion  call,  scattered  like  a flock  of  crows.” 

“ ’Twas  a happy  visit,  Clitus,  for  I could  not  have 
escaped  from  this  vaulted  chamber  unaided  more  than 
from  the  depths  of  Plades,”  Jaron  answered,  scanning  the 
massive  walls. 

“The  Prince’s  coming  is  ever  a happy  chance.  But 
of  this  poor  youth,  good  friend;  when  may  we  look 
to  see  him  resume  his  duties  about  the  palace?” 

“Never!”  Orestes  cried,  awaking,  “so  long  as  Amyn- 
tas  lives  and  has  the  King’s  favor.” 

“Lie  still,  poor  boy.  ’Tis  not  a thing  to  think  of  now,” 
Jaron  mildly  interposed,  motioning  Eurydice  to  calm  the 
stricken  youth.  “Of  the  wound,”  he  went  on,  “ ’twill  be 
months,  perhaps  a year  in  healing.” 

“Then  it  was  more  serious  than  you  thought?” 

“The  hurt?  No.  But  the  javelin  was  poisoned  and 
so  the  whole  body  became  infected.” 

“Poisoned!”  Clitus  cried  incredulously. 


226 


Iskander 


“Yes,  as  I say.  But  go,”  the  leech  exclaimed,  motion- 
ing Clitus  back,  “the  wound  has  ceased  to  bleed.  Leave 
us  that  the  youth  may  have  some  rest  ere  I move  him  to 
the  room  below.” 

Pressing  Jaron’s  hand  Clitus  took  his  departure,  sorely 
distressed  in  mind  by  what  he  had  seen  and  heard. 
Descending  to  the  room  below  he  found  Alexander  and 
Roxana  gone,  but  not  before  the  Prince  had  placed  a 
secure  guard  about  the  hut  to  save  the  Princess  from 
further  harm.  Commending  Orestes  to  Parcledes’  fur- 
ther kindness  Clitus  hurried  on,  threatening  the  soldiers 
with  his  displeasure  as  he  passed,  if  they  in  any  way 
relaxed  their  watchful  guard.  Nearing  the  shore  great 
was  his  astonishment  to  come  upon  the  noble  Ossa 
bathed  in  tears  and  clasping  a sobbing  woman  tenderly  to 
his  heart.  Unmanned,  Clitus  stopped,  staring  in  wonder, 
for  beneath  their  tears  there  beamed  such  love  and  hap- 
piness that  he  could  liken  it  to  nothing  he  had  even  seen 
before.  Observing  him  Ossa  sought  in  vain  for  words, 
so  deeply  was  he  stirred.  At  last,  after  many  efforts  to 
control  his  voice,  he  exclaimed,  with  broken  speech : 

“This  slave,  good  Clitus,  is  my  wife,  torn  from  me 
when  my  people  were  overcome  and  scattered  by  Philip’s 
army,”  and  bending  over  he  pressed  her  face  to  his  as 
if  he  would  hold  it  thus  forever. 

Overcome,  his  eyes  wet  with  tears,  Clitus,  bewildered, 
put  his  arms  about  the  happy  pair  in  loving  embrace. 
Then  motioning  Ossa  to  remain  he  hastened  speechless 
to  the  waiting  ship,  murmuring  a grateful  prayer  to  the 
Gods  for  what  he  had  seen  and  heard. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

Alexander's  return  to  fella. 

Advancing  from  the  cover  of  the  trees  that  hid  the 
river  about  Parcledes’  hut,  the  plain  of  Pella  burst  sud- 
denly upon  the  view  of  those  who  watched  from  the 
decks  of  the  stately  ships.  Seeing  the  white  city  out- 
spread on  the  sloping  hill,  Roxana  cried : 

“Is  it  the  capital,  Iskander,  or  some  desert  mirage  that 
dazzles  our  eyes  and  fools  our  senses  ?” 

“ ’Tis  the  city,  sweet  love;  and  to  the  left  the  palace 
of  the  King,”  he  answered,  his  face  lighting  as  he  con- 
templated the  city  where  he  was  born  and  reared. 

“It  is  like  a picture,  with  its  background  of  circling 
mountains  and  verdant  plains,”  she  cried  enraptured. 

“Yes,  and  on  the  rim  of  yonder  height,”  he  exclaimed, 
indicating  the  spot,  “lies  Edessa,  the  other  and  older 
capital  and  the  burial  place  of  the  kings.” 

“Why  did  you  move  from  thence  into  the  hot  and 
dusty  plain?”  she  asked,  looking  away  to  the  cool  and 
restful  mountain. 

“To  wean  the  people  from  the  rude  and  half  savage 
life  of  shepherds,”  he  answered  with  upraised  head. 
“Hidden  in  the  mountain  valleys  in  unfriendly  isolation, 
the  King  wished  them  to  look  abroad,  to  gaze  upon  the 
open  sea,  which  before  they  might  not  reach  without 
traversing  the  soil  of  an  unfriendly  power;  and  seeing 

(227) 


228  Iskander 

it,  sweet  Princess,  they  sought  possession  and  so  have 
overrun  all  Greece.” 

“Did  the  King  achieve  all  this  unaided?” 

“Yes,  and  despite  the  wdll  of  those  he  sought  to  benefit. 
The  rude,  unkempt  herdsmen,  watching  their  flocks  in 
lonely  glens  or  on  the  sides  of  rugged  mountains,  he 
brought  down  into  the  verdant  plain  and  gave  them 
implements  of  trade  and  husbandry.  Without  shelter, 
save  caves  or  huts  of  mud  and  stone,  they  now  have 
dwellings.  Clad  in  untanned  skins  he  gave  them  cloaks 
and  woolen  garments.  Beset  by  barbarous  enemies,  he 
taught  them  the  use  of  sword  and  spear.  Without  order 
in  battle,  he  schooled  them  in  the  art  of  war  and  when 
they  had  learned  the  lesson  well,  led  them  at  last  to  vic- 
tory,” Alexander  answered,  exalted  at  the  great  achieves 
ment. 

“Did  Iskander  have  no  part  in  this,  sweet  Prince?” 
Roxana  asked  with  a loving  smile.  “Every  good  you 
ascribe  to  the  exalted  King,  and  rightly,  too.  But  Clitus, 
whose  frankness  knows  no  cover,  is  not  at  such  pains  to 
give  Philip  credit  for  things  the  son  has  done.” 

“The  King  inspires  all  and  so  the  credit  is  rightly  his. 
But  look!  They  throw  open  the  gates  of  the  city,  and 
the  people  crowd  forth  to  enjoy  a holiday  and  give  us 
greeting.” 

“And  see!  the  river  is  filled  with  barges  gaily  deco- 
rated, hastening  to  welcome  you,”  Roxana  exclaimed, 
her  face  aflame  that  the  Prince  should  be  thus  honored. 

Soon  the  clang  of  armor  and  the  strains  of  martial 
music  reaching  their  ears,  they  beheld  the  soldiers  hurry- 
ing to  the  river  l)ank  to  meet  and  welcome  their  beloved 


Alexander’s  Return  to  Pella  229 

Prince.  Alexander  bringing  his  ship  to  land,  the  noisy 
throng,  crying  his  name,  hastened  on  board  to  greet  and 
crown  him  with  the  garland  of  victory ; the  citizens  com- 
ing after  and  crowding  close  upon  the  eager  soldiers, 
now  joined  their  loud  huzzahs  in  joyful  welcome  of  the 
Prince’s  safe  return.  Standing  in  the  middle  deck,  Alex- 
ander smiled  and  bowed  his  grateful  thanks,  his  heart 
stirred  with  love  and  pride.  While  thus  they  watched 
and  cheered,  Alexander,  taking  the  garland  from  off  his 
head,  wound  about  it  the  crimson  scarf  that  decked  the 
throat  of  Roxana,  who  stood  beside  him.  Observing 
what  he  did  and  seeing  the  sweet  face  of  the  smiling 
Princess,  the  multitude  raised  a shout  of  admiration  that, 
reaching  across  the  level  plain,  re-echoed  from  the  walls 
of  Philip’s  lofty  citadel. 

When  the  wild  excitement  had  in  some  measure  sub- 
sided, Alexander,  saluting  and  thanking  the  multitude, 
gave  the  signal  for  the  fleet  to  proceed.  At  this  the  vast 
throng,  turning  about  and  following  on  the  river  bank, 
raised  their  voices  with  one  accord,  chanting  the  national 
hymn.  Hearing  the  glad  song,  Roxana,  unable  to  restrain 
the  tears  of  joy  that  filled  her  eyes,  turned  to  Alexander, 
exclaiming : 

“ ’Tis  as  if  every  one  saw  in  you  a son  or  cherished 
brother,  Iskander.” 

“Such  I am  to  them,  sweet  Princess.  For  here  I have 
lived  all  my  life,  and  in  such  intimacy  that  they  look  upon 
all  I do  as  if  they,  themselves,  had  planned  it.” 

“Surely  no  Prince  was  ever  more  loved  than  you,”  she 
exclaimed,  as  the  multitude  seeing  Alexander  replace  his 
plumed  helmet,  cried  in  wild  delight : 

“Cheronea ! The  Prince ! The  King ! The  King !” 


230 


Iskander 


“Hear  you  that,  Iskander,”  Roxana  exclaimed,  grasp- 
ing Alexander’s  hand,  her  face  paling,  as  if  to  call  him 
King  were  an  offense  that  would  cost  her  companion  his 
life,  as  indeed  it  would  have  done  in  Persia. 

“ ’Tis  nothing,  for  they  have  often  thus  saluted  me 
when  the  King  was  by.  And  he,  no  way  offended,  joined 
as  heartily  as  the  others  in  the  compliment,”  Alexander 
answered,  as  if  it  were  not  a thing  to  notice. 

“If  that  be  so,  he  must  indeed  be  great,”  she  answered, 
not  comprehending  how  such  confidence  could  exist 
between  a ruler  and  his  waiting  heir. 

“He  is,  sweet  Princess.  So  great,  indeed,  that  he 
esteems  himself  a God.  But  ’tis  not  that,  for  till  now  we 
have  been  more  like  loving  brothers  than  aught  else.” 

“Why  do  you  say  ‘till  now’  ?”  she  queried  with  anxious 
face. 

“I  know  not  why,  sweet  love,  except  as  whisperings 
have  reached  me  of  some  possible  change  in  the  King’s 
mind,  brought  about  by  the  intrigues  of  the  court,”  Alex- 
ander answered,  as  if  it  were  not  a thing  likely  to  be  true, 
or  of  great  consequence. 

While  they  were  thus  speaking  the  barge  of  the  Prince 
Amyntas  drew  near  and  he,  mounting  Alexander’s  ship, 
hastening  to  his  side,  cried  out : 

“Plail  victorious  Prince!  Acclaim,  and  loving  wel- 
come back  to  Pella !” 

“Thanks,  sweet  cousin,  I accept  the  greeting  as  from 
a brother’s  heart,”  Alexander  answered,  embracing  him. 
“So,  too,  will  the  Princess  Roxana,  who  comes  as  the 
Nation’s  guest  in  the  train  of  the  Persian  embassy,” 
Alexander  answered,  bending  before  her  in  low  obeisance. 


Alexander’s  Return  to  Pella  231 


“Welcome  to  Pella,  sweet  Princess,  and  doubly  so 
coming  by  the  side  of  our  victorious  Prince,”  Amyntas 
answered,  doffing  his  plumed  hat  as  he  bent  low  before 
her. 

“The  good  fortune  of  visiting  Macedonia  has  been 
reserved  to  me  of  all  my  countrywomen,  and  so,  because 
of  it,  I esteem  the  honor  all  the  greater,”  she  answered, 
blushing  under  Amyntas*  close  scrutiny. 

“There  has  been  little  intercourse  of  any  kind  between 
our  countiy  and  the  Persian  Empire,  fair  Princess,  but 
the  King  and  his  royal  son  promise  to  change  all  this  in 
the  near  future,”  he  answered  pleasantly,  as  if  his  words 
conveyed  no  sinister  meaning. 

“We  Persians  have  looked  on  from  afar  at  the  great 
deeds  of  your  exalted  King,  and  come  now  to  crave  his 
friendship  as  one  would  an  honor  and  a privilege,” 
Roxana  replied,  as  if  noticing  nothing  amiss  in  what  the 
other  said. 

“In  that  spirit  the  embassy,  animated  by  love  and 
friendship,  will  ere  long  crave  your  kind  offices,  Amyn- 
tas, as  they  will  that  of  all  lovers  of  peace,”  Alexander 
interposed  with  generous  frankness. 

“Do  they  expect  aid  from  you  in  such  a thing,  oh 
Prince?”  Amyntas  answered,  eyeing  Alexander. 

“The  embassy  is  inspired  by  motives  so  weighty  and 
exalted  that  everyone  must  give  heed  to  what  they  say, 
good  cousin.” 

“Are  the  fixed  purposes  of  a great  and  war-like  nation, 
oh  Prince,  to  be  weighed  anew  and  turned  aside,  it  may 
be,  by  soft  words  and  futile  promises?  I cannot  believe 
it  possible,”  Amyntas  exclaimed  in  a harsh  voice. 


232 


Iskander 


“They  come  to  further  an  alliance  of  mutual  advantage, 
good  cousin,  and  not  as  suppliants.  Through  them  Per- 
sia, so  long  isolated,  now  seeks  the  friendship  of  Mace- 
donia, its  equal  in  station,”  Alexander  answered,  the  color 
deepening  in  his  face. 

“What  enchantment,  what  sorcery,  oh  Prince,  leads 
you  to  speak  thus  of  their  endeavor?  Surely  you  must 
have  some  revelation  from  the  King  or  the  Gods  that 
your  fiery  temper  is  so  soon  changed  to  complaisant  ease,” 
Amyntas  cried  in  scorn. 

To  this  Alexander  made  no  reply,  save  to  dismiss  the 
other  with  a wave  of  his  hand.  Backing  away,  Amyn- 
tas crimsoned  at  the  rebuff,  for,  owing  to  the  King’s 
favor  he  exercised  almost  regal  power  and  was  treated 
with  servile  deference  by  all  who  frequented  the  court. 

“Is  that  Perdiccas’  son,  who,  except  for  Philip  would 
now  be  King?”  Roxana  asked  with  anxious  face. 

“Yes,  the  most  valiant  of  Princes,  the  puissant  Amyn- 
tas, Perdiccas’  son  and  heir!  Did  you  like  him,  sweet 
Princess?”  Alexander  asked  smiling. 

“No,  Iskander,  for  he  is  your  deadly  enemy,”  she  ex- 
claimed, her  eyes  expressing  her  dislike  more  plainly 
than  her  words. 

“He  has  every  reason  to  think  kindly  of  me,  Roxana, 
for  I have  often  befriended  him  when  the  labor  was  a 
burden,”  Alexander  answered,  recalling  Amyntas’  dis- 
content and  moody  ways,  and  the  King’s  former  dislike. 

“He  is  no  friend  of  yours,  Iskander,  for  his  eyes  be- 
tray his  hatred.  Nor  can  he  be  much  blamed;  but  you, 
secure  in  the  people’s  love  no  longer  think  of  him  as 
claimant  to  the  throne,  forgeting  thus  his  mortal  griev- 


Alexander’s  Return  to  Pella  233 

ance.  And  so  you  rest  at  east  while  he  schemes  for  your 
destruction,”  she  went  on,  as  if  the  politics  of  Macedonia 
were  already  a thing  at  her  finger’s  end. 

“No,  I cannot  believe  he  meditates  me  harm,  for  at 
Cheronea,  when  a Theban  threatened  my  life,  Amyntas 
coming  up  as  I stooped,  hurling  his  lance,  killed  my  assail- 
ant where  he  stood,”  Alexander  answered,  as  if  nothing 
more  could  be  said. 

“Oh  frank  and  loyal  Prince,  ’twas  against  you  the 
lance  was  aimed,”  Roxana  cried,  her  love  and  suspicion 
of  Amyntas  divining  the  truth.  Hearing  her  Alexander 
started,  disturbed  in  spite  of  himself  at  what  she  said, 
when  he  reflected  on  the  circumstances  of  the  battle. 
“My  love  is  not  deceived,  Iskander.  He  is  no  more  your 
friend  than  the  renegade  Mithrines  who,  now  that  your 
rank  is  known,  professes  to  honor  and  admire  your 
princely  character.  But  ’tis  only  pretense,  sweet  love; 
he  hates  you  and  will  harm  you  if  he  can,”  Roxana  went 
on,  as  if  she  would  force  her  love  to  see  his  enemies  with 
her  eyes.  But  Alexander,  like  Philip,  brave  to  rashness, 
thought  no  harm  could  reach  him  and  so,  smiling,  dis- 
missed the  subject. 

In  this  way  the  fleet  at  last  approached  the  citadel, 
where  the  chamberlain  of  the  King  came  forward  and 
saluted  Alexander  with  humble  deference.  Presenting 
him  to  the  Princess  and  the  members  of  the  embassy,  the 
exalted  official  conducted  them,  with  stately  ceremony, 
to  the  quarters  set  apart  for  their  residence  within  the 
lofty  fortress.  Alexander,  at  last  free,  lost  no  time  in 
hastening  to  greet  the  Queen,  who  had  long  impatiently 
awaited  his  coming.  No  sooner  did  she  catch  sight  of 


234 


Iskander 


his  waving  plumes  and  glistening  armor  than,  motioning 
those  about  her  to  withdraw,  she  advanced  with  open 
arms  to  receive  and  welcome  him.  Speechless  and 
trembling  she  clasped  him  to  her  breast,  tears  filling  her 
eyes  and  sobs  choking  her  utterance;  for,  in  the  troubled 
life  of  this  great  and  most  unhappy  Queen,  Alexander 
only,  through  the  great  love  she  bore  him,  held  her 
haughty  nature  and  half  savage  heart  in  sweet  subjec- 
tion. For  Philip,  whom  she  once  loved  as  the  tigress 
does  its  mate,  she  now  felt  only  impassioned  scorn  and 
deadly  hatred.  Thus  animated,  like  one  apart,  she  wel- 
comed the  return  of  her  son  as  the  shipwrecked  sailor, 
tossed  by  angry  waves,  welcomes  the  one  who  comes  to 
cheer  and  succor  him.  Regaining  her  composure  in  some 
degree,  she  put  her  arms  about  the  Prince,  kissing  his 
face  and  hair  again  and  again  with  tender  eagerness. 
Then,  clasping  his  face  in  both  her  hands,  she  looked 
long  and  steadfastly  into  his  smiling  eyes,  as  if  she  would 
make  sure  she  still  held  his  love.  At  last,  convinced,  she 
took  his  hands  in  hers  and  kissing  them  with  hungry 
eagerness,  exclaimed; 

“Welcome,  dear  son,  to  Pella  and  your  mother’s  heart! 
For  the  starving  shepherd,  wandering  aimlessly  amid 
our  mountain  mists,  looks  not  forward  to  food  and  rest 
as  my  heart  hungers  and  thirsts  for  your  presence  and 
love.” 

“Knowing  this,  exalted  Queen,  I have  been  remiss  in 
lingering  by  the  way,  little  regarding  your  loneliness  or 
the  love  that  watched  for  my  return,”  he  answered,  plac- 
ing his  arm  about  her  and  caressing  her  with  tender  affec- 
tion. For,  unaccountable  as  it  appeared  to  the  frequent- 


Alexander’s  Return  to  Pella  235 


ers  of  the  court,  this  proud  and  sensitive  Prince  loved 
his  mother  as  if  she  possessed  every  virtue  kno’wn  to 
womankind. 

“You  only  understand  me,  Alexander;  you  only  see 
my  heart  and  know  its  fierce  longing  for  love  and  trust- 
ing confidence,”  she  answered,  her  eyes  gleaming  with 
savage  hatred  at  the  thought  of  the  neglect  in  which 
she  lived. 

“All  men  shall  know  your  greatness,  oh  Queen,  for  the 
people  love  me  and  in  this  love  you  shall  doubly  share,” 
he  answered,  pushing  back  the  mass  of  yellow  hair  from 
about  her  troubled  face. 

“This  sweet  dream  can  never  be,  Alexander,  though 
you  beg  the  boon  on  bended  knee.  Philip  no  longer  loves 
me  and  the  multitude  seeing  his  coldness  ascribe  the 
cause  to  fault  of  mine.  His  aversion  is  open  and  the 
sycophants  that  throng  the  court  seeing  this,  treat  me 
with  rude  neglect  or  cold  discourtesy.  But  why  do  I 
burden  you  with  the  woes  of  an  abandoned  woman,  who 
no  longer  has  a place  in  the  world,  nor  wishes  one  save 
for  the  honor  of  her  beloved  son.  There ! sweet,  do  not 
answer,  for  I know  well  what  you  would  say.  Go  rest 
and  refresh  yourself,  but  be  not  too  long  gone,  for  no 
comforting  thought  stirs  my  tired  heart  when  you  are 
absent,”  and  putting  her  arms  about  him  in  fond  affection, 
she  dismissed  him  with  tears  and  tender  caresses. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 


PPIILIP,  KING  OF  MACEDON. 

Philip,  to  make  sure  his  domination  of  Greece  and  in 
avoidance  of  the  Persian  embassy,  long  delayed  his  re- 
turn to  Pella.  Meanwhile  Oxyartes  and  his  associates 
fretted  away  their  time  in  idle  discourse,  unable  to  make 
any  headway  whatever  in  the  great  object  of  their  visit. 
At  last,  news  having  come  that  Philip  might  shortly 
return,  every  one  was  stirred  to  life  in  expectation  of 
the  event;  for  this  great  and  restless  monarch,  amid  his 
drunken  revels  and  sensual  debaucheries,  was  yet  so  filled 
with  mighty  projects  and  kingly  ambitions  that  no  one 
could  forecast  what  was  to  come,  except  as  it  stood  re- 
vealed. Thus,  one  morning — and  sooner  than  had  been 
thought — the  King,  with  an  escort  of  horse  and  riding 
at  full  gallop,  drew  rein  at  the  entrance  to  the  fortress. 
His  coming  being  unknown  save  by  the  guard  and  the 
slaves  loitering  about  the  entrance,  he  hurried  unob- 
served to  his  apartments  to  bathe  and  refresh  himself. 

Philip  at  this  time  was  forty-one  years  of  age  and  in 
the  twenty-first  year  of  his  reign.  Second  in  the  line  of 
succession,  he  had  been  in  his  youth  in  extreme  peril  of 
his  life  from  the  ambition  of  the  Regent,  Ptolemy.  At 
the  age  of  fifteen  he  was  sent  to  Thebes,  then  the  domi- 
nant power  of  Greece,  as  a hostage,  where  he  remained 
three  years,  observing  men  and  .studying  the  science  of 
government.  In  familiar  intercourse,  during  these  years 

(236) 


237 


Philip,  King  of  Macedon 

with  the  Theban  generals,  Epaminondas  and  Pelopidas, 
the  greatest  military  leaders  of  the  age,  he  learned  from 
them  the  art  of  war.  Afterwards,  when  he  became  King, 
he  extended  and  improved  upon  their  methods  in  the 
organization  of  the  Macedonian  Army,  making  it  the 
most  effective  then  known  to  men. 

Of  the  pre-eminence  that  Philip  attained  and  the  ag- 
grandizement of  his  country  that  followed,  there  are  few 
if  any  parallels  in  history.  A usurper  upon  the  throne, 
without  wealth  or  followers,  he  had  no  source  of  strength 
in  the  early  years  of  his  reign  save  in  his  ability  to  inspire 
men  with  confidence  in  his  leadership  and  belief  in  the 
great  destiny  that  awaited  him  as  King.  So  impoverished 
was  his  country  at  this  period  that  the  only  thing  of 
value  the  King  possessed,  with  which  to  bribe  an  enemy 
or  tempt  a friend,  was  a silver  goblet.  This,  like  a hungry 
miser,  he  concealed  at  night  beneath  his  pillow.  It  is 
said  of  him  by  his  enemies — the  historians — that  so 
transcendent  were  his  talents  and  so  great  his  power  over 
others  that,  when  face  to  face  with  men,  he  had  such 
semblance  of  honesty,  so  ingenuous  an  appearance  of 
candor,  so  open  and  transparent  a countenance,  that  all 
save  the  more  astute  trusted  his  word  without  question. 
Yet  it  is  claimed,  and  doubtless  truthfully,  that  he  was 
never  sincere  in  anything  he  said  or  did  throughout  all 
his  life,  when  his  interests  were  better  served  by  conceal- 
ment or  misrepresentation.  In  this  way  and  through  his 
great  ability  to  influence  or  beguile  men,  he  cemented  his 
power,  while  he  allayed  the  fears  of  his  enemies  or  led 
them  hopelessly  astray.  Thus,  without  other  resources 
than  his  courage  and  wisdom  and  subtle  craft,  he  organ- 


238 


Iskander 


ized  and  extended  his  kingdom  until  it  finally  dominated 
all  Greece,  as  it  already  held  in  subjection  the  savage 
tribes  that  bordered  upon  Macedonia.  No  great  monarch 
known  to  history,  with  aims  so  transcendent  and  far- 
reaching,  ever  lived  a life  of  greater  simplicity.  In  inti- 
mate companionsliip  with  his  officers  and  those  about  the 
throne,  all,  nevertheless,  yielded  him  blind  obedience, 
respecting  his  pre-eminence,  his  dauntless  courage  and 
transcendent  genius  for  affairs. 

Philip  is  said  to  have  been  exceedingly  vain  of  his 
person,  as  all  great  men  are  apt  to  be,  and  with  the  en- 
richment of  his  country  he,  more  and  more,  allowed  him- 
self the  indulgences  of  kingly  wealth  and  power.  Royal 
pages,  the  sons  of  princes  and  nobles,  kept  watch  about 
his  bed,  waited  upon  him  at  table,  held  his  stirrup  when 
he  mounted  his  horse,  and  performed  all  the  offices  of 
personal  attention  usual  in  the  case  of  a great  and  abso- 
lute monarch.  To  further  emphasize  his  kingly  dignity, 
he  adorned  his  person  with  princely  garments  and  jew- 
els, bedecking  his  arms  and  ankles  and  throat  with  wide 
bands  of  gold,  encrusted  with  costly  gems. 

In  the  affairs  of  government,  Philip  ever  sought  to 
attain  his  ends  by  politic  means.  But  suppression,  mis- 
representation, bribery,  cunning,  guile,  all  were  alike  to 
him  if  thereby  he  could  accomplish  his  purpose.  He  had 
recourse  to  arms  only  when  other  means  failed,  for, 
strange  as  it  may  appear  to  those  familiar  with  his  life, 
he  was  neither  blood-thirsty  nor  fond  of  strife.  War 
was  a means  to  an  end  when  peaceful  measures  failed. 
Secretive,  subtle,  politic  in  his  intercourse  with  men, 
knowing  no  forbearance  for  those  who  were  weak, 


239 


Philip,  King  of  Macedon 

sagacious,  merciless  in  claiming  what  he  craved,  great  in 
comprehension  and  bold  and  skillful  in  execution,  Philip 
lost  no  opportunity,  however  slight,  to  build  up  his  power. 
Yet,  where  his  interests  were  not  concerned,  no  private 
citizen  was  more  amiable  or  peaceably  inclined  than  he.  He 
was  not  vindictive  or  cruel,  and  if  he  was  violent,  it  was 
not  because  he  loved  violence  for  itself.  If  he  destroyed 
cities,  ravaged  populous  districts  with  sword  and  fire, 
put  his  enemies  to  death  or  sold  them  into  slavery,  he 
did  it  in  the  accomplishment  of  a great  and  predetermined 
purpose.  That  purpose  was  the  ascendancy  of  the  kingly 
power  of  Macedonia.  He  aimed  to  secure,  at  last,  unity 
and  peace  among  the  warring  and  irreconcilable  factions 
that  had  disturbed  Greece  for  a thousand  years.  He  shed 
blood  no  farther  than  need  be  in  the  accomplishment  of 
this  purpose,  and  had  he  lived,  the  unity  of  Greece  would 
have  well  repaid  the  sacrifice;  but  dying  before  his  time, 
it  seemed  a cruel  waste. 

Gross  in  his  appetite,  it  was  his  nature  to  enjoy  the 
table  and  the  association  of  boon  companions.  At  such 
times,  giving  himself  up  to  the  unstinted  use  of  wine,  his 
drunken  debaucheries  exceeded  those  of  all  other  men, 
as  his  mind  excelled  all  others,  save  Alexander’s,  in  its 
alertness  and  strength.  Thes§  excesses,  however  they 
may  appear,  were  in  the  nature  of  relaxation  to  Philip, 
from  the  bloody  strain  of  battle  and  the  harassments  of 
mind  attendant  upon  the  fulfillment  of  his  mighty  aims. 
Neither  his  love  of  wine,  nor  his  liaisons,  which  were 
shameless  and  without  number,  ever  led  him  to  forget  the 
objects  of  his  kingly  life  or  the  aggrandizement  of  his 
country.  In  this  all  men  are  agreed. 


240 


Iskander 


It  is  said  of  Philip  that  when  his  anger  was  fully 
aroused  every  one  stood  appalled  at  its  strength  and 
ferocity.  Then  the  thousand  nameless  acts  of  infidelity 
and  shameless  treachery  that  characterized  his  life, 
stamped  their  hideous  impress  on  his  furrowed  brow,  so 
that  all  might  read  the  baleful  story.  At  such  times,  his 
face,  inflamed  from  wine,  and  wounds  received  in  battle, 
became  a dark  purple,  the  scars  with  wdiich  it  was  seamed, 
giving  him  a savage  appearance  terrible  to  behold.  In 
battle  his  crisp,  curly  hair  was  bathed  with  moisture  and 
hung  limp  and  disheveled  about  his  massive  head.  At 
such  times  his  beetling  brows,  contracting,  overshadowed 
his  gleaming  eyes,  giving  his  leonine  face  the  appearance 
of  a wild  and  ferocious  animal.  His  savage  passions 
when  thus  aroused  in  battle,  gaining  complete  mastery, 
his  brain  succumbed  to  the  wild  frenzy  and  turmoil  of 
the  hour,  so  that  he  was  like  one  demented.  In  this  how 
different  from  Alexander,  whose  mind  seemed  to  clear  in 
the  strife  of  battle,  as  if — and  as  has  been  thought — that 
were  his  natural  element.  Such  was  Philip  of  Macedonia, 
the  greatest  man  the  world  had  known  up  to  his  time, 
just  as  Alexander  was  greater  than  all  who  had  pre- 
ceded him. 

Having  overcome  all  his  enemies,  Philip  now  returned 
to  Pella,  with  the  cherished  ambition  of  his  stormy  life 
fully  gratified.  Pleased  with  the  world  and  himself,  all 
that  was  amiable  in  the  man  showed  itself  in  the  hospi- 
table countenance  of  the  King.  In  this  mood,  and  having 
bathed  and  refreshed  himself,  he  summoned  his  austere 
and  trusted  civil  governor.  Antipater,  to  his  presence; 
the  latter  responding  with  the  alacrity  of  the  trained  cour- 


241 


Philip,  King  of  Macedon 

tier,  the  King  lost  not  a moment  in  questioning  him 
about  the  things  that  were  uppermost  in  his  mind. 

“Come,  good  Antipater,”  he  cried  as  the  royal  pages 
busied  themselves  with  his  toilet,  “you  who  hate  wine 
and  possess  every  virtue  denied  your  King,  what  present 
scandal  stirs  the  gossips  of  the  court?  Who  among  the 
gallants  has  been  drunk  oftenest?  Who  has  strayed 
farthest  from  the  path  of  virtue?  Who  has  added  to  the 
number  of  his  mistresses?  Whose  ox  has  been  gored? 
I come  unheralded,  as  you  see,  and  purposely,  that  I may 
the  sooner  acquaint  myself  with  the  doings  of  the  court. 
How  do  our  Persian  friends  pass  the  hours?  Not  dis- 
contentedly, I hope?”  the  King  concluded,  as  if  after  all 
that  were  the  thing  that  interested  him  most. 

“With  such  cheerful  countenances,  oh  King,  as  the 
damned  may  wear  who  haunt  the  precincts  of  the  lower 
world,”  Antipater  answered  grimly. 

“How  like  they  the  accommodations  and  the  fare  of 
Pella?”  the  King  went  on,  waving  the  pages  away. 

“Poorly,  oh  King,  I must  believe,  if  their  appetites  are 
an  index  of  their  .stomachs.” 

“It  will  be  better  with  longer  stay.  Their  delicate 
palates  are  not  accustomed  to  our  strong  food.  Mean- 
while we  will  treat  them  with  such  pretense  of  favor  as 
we  can.  But  we  must  enlarge  our  quarters,  good  Anti- 
pater,” the  King  exclaimed,  looking  about  him.  “Other 
delegations  seek  our  growing  powder  from  every  quarter, 
and  the  store-houses  of  the  world  are  being  ransacked 
to  find  acceptable  presents  for  the  Imperator  and  Master 
of  Greece.  But  of  these  Persian  Grandees,”  the  King 
went  on,  “is  Alexander  much  in  their  company?” 


242 


Iskander 


“Not  more  than  courtesy  requires,  oh  King,  if  I ex- 
cept the  Bactrian  Princess,  Oxyartes’  daughter.” 

“What  of  that?”  the  King  asked,  curiously. 

“Much,  oh  King,  for  he  is  but  the  semblance  of  his 
former  self  when  not  in  her  presence.  Losing  all  energy, 
he  wanders  listlessly  about  the  fortress  till  chance  or  con- 
trivance throws  him  in  her  way.” 

“Has  it  gone  so  far,  my  gossip?  He,  who  unlike  his 
father,  would  never  notice  women.  His  warmth  stirs  my 
heart,  good  Antipater;  I would  he  were  more  given  to 
such  amorous  adventures.  But  about  another  matter, 
good  Antipater,”  the  King  went  on,  hesitating,  “have 
Attains  and  his  niece  Cleopatra  returned  to  Pella  ?” 

“Yes,  oh  King,  and  now  occupy  their  palace  in  the 
city,  with  full  retinue  of  followers  and  slaves.” 

“Is  she  expectant  of  the  new  honor  and  in  good 
spirits?”  the  King  asked,  stopping  to  hear  the  other’s 
answer. 

“Yes,  oh  King,  and  withal,  of  such  surprising  beauty 
that  the  people  crane  their  necks  and  stop  to  gaze  upon 
her  in  admiration  as  she  passes.” 

“Well  they  may,  good  Antipater,  but  is  the  proposed 
marriage  much  discussed,  think  you,  or  is  my  purpose 
only  surmised?” 

“It  was  not  at  first  believed,  oh  King.  Now  little 
else  is  talked,  but  not  above  a whisper,  lest  it  turn  out  to 
be  untrue.” 

“How  do  they  receive  it — kindly?”  the  King  asked, 
eyeing  the  other. 

“Every  one  commends  the  grace  and  surprising  beauty 
of  the  bride,  oh  King.” 


243 


Philip,  King  of  Macedon 

“What  says  Alexander  ? Is  he  complaisant  or  defiant  ?” 
Philip  inquired  with  some  anxiety. 

“Of  all  those  about  the  court,  the  Prince  seems  not  to 
be  informed,  oh  King.  Pie,  like  the  deceived  husband, 
remains  ignorant  while  the  world  gossips  behind  his 
back.  But  the  Prince,  as  I have  said,  has  eyes  and  ears 
only  for  the  fair  Roxana,  and  so  is  blind  and  deaf  to  all 
else.” 

“ ’Tis  strange  that  so  great  a thing  should  have  been 
kept  back  from  him,”  the  King  answered,  as  if  doubting 
its  truth. 

“The  Prince  has  little  curiosity,  as  you  know,  oh  King, 
and  less  courtesy  for  the  common  gossips  of  the  court. 
Besides,  who  would  dare  to  speak  to  him  about  a thing 
that  touches  him  so  closely?  It  were  likely  to  cost  a 
man  his  life,  so  great  is  his  pride  and  his  respect  for  his 
mother.  If  some  rumor  of  the  marriage  has  come  to 
his  ears  it  has  been  only  vaguely,  and  he  has  given  it  no 
heed.  Such  stories  have  been  common  in  Macedonia 
these  late  years,  oh  King,  and  the  wise  give  them  little 
thought,”  Antipater  answered  with  a sidelong  glance  at 
his  master. 

“Poor  Prince,  he  will  not  take  it  kindly  for  he  loves 
his  mother  as  in  his  childhood,”  the  King  went  on  reflect- 
ively. “Better  he  should  know  nothing  till  the  thing 
is  done  and  opposition  of  no  avail.  But  about  my  wives, 
I scarce  know  the  number.  Antipater;  do  they  take  it 
unkindly  ?” 

“One  wife  more  or  less,  should  not  be  a cause  of 
worry  where  there  are  so  many,  oh  King,”  Antipater 
answered,  evading  the  King’s  question. 


244 


Iskander 


“Plurality  of  wives  has  its  vexations,  Antipater,”  the 
King  went  on  meditatively,  “but  the  annoyances  must 
be  set  off  against  the  advantages.” 

“So  the  Kings  of  Macedonia  have  ever  reasoned,” 
Antipater  answered  soberly,  remembering  the  seas  of 
blood  and  countless  ills  his  country  had  suffered  from  this 
cause. 

“Thus  the  King  may  have  many  children  to  marry  to 
those  not  friendly  to  the  throne,  and  so  make  adherents 
where,  otherwise,  there  would  be  enemies.  That  is  clearly 
an  advantage,”  the  King  answered,  as  if  it  were  a sub- 
ject of  calculation. 

“Yes,  if  the  ties  prove  not  irksome  and  the  enmity 
become  the  greater,”  Antipater  answered,  as  if  conveying 
a warning. 

“I  have  no  time  to  weigh  such  chances,  good  friend. 
Nor  would  it  avail  me.  We  must  trust  those  about  us, 
nor  can  we  put  off  the  hour  of  our  undoing  though  we 
hedge  ourselves  about  by  fire.  But  if  the  lesser  wives 
look  upon  my  making  Cleopatra  Queen  with  little  inter- 
est, it  must  be  different  with  the  tigress  Olympias,” 
Philip  queried,  with  some  concern. 

“I  know  not,  oh  King;  but  she  having  been  Queen  all 
these  years  and  being  mother  to  the  heir,  has  more  at 
stake  than  the  others,”  Antipater  answered,  as  if  foresee- 
ing all  the  evils  this  ill-considered  marriage  would  bring 
in  its  train. 

“Is  she  much  about  and  of  cheerful  countenance,  or 
does  she  mope  in  the  house?”  the  King  asked,  with  sar- 
donic humor. 


245 


Philip,  King  of  Macedon 

“She  goes  not  abroad  at  all,  oh  King,  or  only  with  her 
Molossian  guards  and  attendants.” 

“Go  to  her,  good  Antipater,  and  advise  her  of  my  re- 
turn and  that  I will  follow  you  to  pay  my  devoirs  in  per- 
son,” the  King  exclaimed  with  a grimace.  “Afterwards, 
convey  my  greeting  to  the  Persian  Ambassadors  and  say 
1 will  receive  them  informally  within  the  hour.  Such 
haste  will  indicate  a pleasurable  eagerness  to  do  the 
great  King  honor  and  so  our  real  intent  may  be  the 
better  concealed,”  the  King  went  on,  returning  to  his 
toilet. 

“They  feel  great  uncertainty  respecting  your  intentions, 
oh  King,  and  so  have  awaited  your  return  with  impa- 
tience and  ill-concealed  apprehension.” 

“ ’Tis  but  natural,  and  the  movement  of  our  troops  to- 
ward the  Hellespont  heightens  their  alarm,  but  it  is  only 
to  afford  needed  protection  to  our  Thracian  possessions. 
Could  anything  be  plainer?  But  that  we  may  evince  our 
great  respect  for  the  Persian  monarch,  announce  that  his 
ambassadors  are  to  be  honored  with  a sumptuous  banquet. 
Give  the  matter  in  charge  to  Amyntas,  who  craves  ern- 
ployment  about  the  palace.  A banquet  will  be  much  to 
the  taste  of  the  luxurious  Persians,  who  are  great  eaters. 
Antipater,  and  far  exceed  us  in  their  love  of  wine,  strange 
as  it  may  appear.  Because  of  this  vice,  the  only  manly 
one  they  have,  I am  inclined  to  hold  them  in  some  respect. 
So  let  the  event  be  not  delayed,  for  I need  some  diver- 
sion and  our  strong  drink  will  purge  my  stomach  of  the 
weak  stuff  the  Grecians  have  filled  it  with  of  late.  There! 
Go  to  the  Queen  and  do  as  I bade  you,  and  I will  follow 
without  loss  of  time.” 


246 


I skander 


Antipater  doing  as  he  was  directed,  had  scarce  left 
the  room  ere  the  King  followed  at  his  heels.  Reaching 
the  apartment  of  the  Queen,  the  loud  and  angry  voice  of 
Olympias  caused  Philip  to  hesitate  whether  to  go  for- 
ward or  remain  where  he  was. 

“Does  the  King  bring  the  painted  strumpet  Cleopatra 
to  the  palace  in  his  unannounced  return?”  the  Queen 
cried,  “or  does  he  postpone  that  pleasant  duty  till  another 
day?” 

“He  comes  alone,  gracious  Queen,  or  only  with  a 
small  retinue,”  Antipater  answered  in  a conciliatory  voice. 

“Like  the  jackal,  he  hastens  to  the  spot  where  the  rot- 
ting carcass  lies  exposed.  Already  gorged  with  lust, 
the  monster  hurries  his  return,  hearing  of  the  presence 
of  his  mistress !”  she  cried  in  a shrill  voice. 

“The  King,  oh  Queen,  sends  me  to  announce  his  com- 
ing without  delay,  to  greet  your  august  majesty  in  per- 
son,” Antipater  answered,  obsequiously,  as  if  the  other 
had  not  spoken,  or  he  had  not  heard. 

“Go  back,  oh  supple  slave,  and  say  the  Queen  will 
never  accord  him  audience  until  he  abandons  his  purpose 
to  make  Cleopatra  his  adulterous  Queen.  Go!  Your 
presence  is  scarcely  less  odious  than  the  King  you  serve 
with  such  base  subserviency,”  she  cried,  turning  angrily 
away. 

Making  humble  obeisance.  Antipater  took  his  departure, 
nor  seemed  to  see  the  King  who  waited  without,  with 
stern  and  threatening  countenance.  Thus  Philip  stood, 
until  the  look  of  hate  and  half  of  fear  that  overspread 
his  swarthy  face,  gave  place  to  one  of  more  complaisant 
humor.  Then  entering  unannounced,  he  cried  as  if  in 
joy: 


247 


Philip,  King  of  Macedon 

“Hail,  gentle  Queen!  You  give  but  a tardy  welcome 
to  your  King  after  his  long  and  enforced  absence.  The 
court,  too,  so  it  would  appear,  takes  little  interest  in  his 
movements,  if  one  may  judge  from  the  scant  attention 
paid  his  coming,”  the  King  concluded,  advancing,  as  if 
to  embrace  her.  Backing  away,  her  face  aflame  with 
passion,  she  cried : 

“The  minions  who  pander  to  your  lust  would  not  have 
failed  to  display  their  truculence  had  they  known  of  your 
coming.  You  are  but  too  well  served,  oh  King,  and  have 
little  cause  to  complain  of  the  pliant  creatures  who  throng 
about  your  person,  hungry  to  do  your  base  offices.” 

“Greet  me  not  thus  rudely,  Olympias,”  the  King  an- 
swered, with  show  of  amiability.  “Would  you  have  me 
surrounded  by  other  than  friendly  followers!  My  life 
were  not  worth  an  obol’s  purchase  in  such  case.” 

“That  were  enough  to  pay  if  virtue  fixed  the  price,  oh 
King.  I would  have  you  served  by  men  not  panderers; 
by  loyal  subjects,  not  the  pliant  creatures  who  lie  awake 
to  entrap  you  with  seductive  wiles.  Throw  them  off, 
Philip,  and  lead  the  kingly  life  that  becomes  your  genius 
and  exalted  rank,”  she  answered,  reproachfully. 

“I  am  what  I am,  oh  Queen,  and  cannot  change  if  I 
would.  Nor  is  there  cause,”  Philip  answered  impatiently. 

“Dare  you  excuse  your  vices!  You,  whose  every  hour 
of  relaxation  is  filled  with  drunken  revels  and  lustful 
indulgence,”  she  answered  bitterly. 

“If  my  morals  are  lax,  oh  Queen,  ’tis  whispered  that 
you  are  not  blameless  in  that  respect,”  he  answered 
menacingly. 

“If  I have  transgressed,  ’tis  you  who  taught  me  the 


248 


Iskander 


way:  ’twas  you  who  beat  down  the  noble  restraint  that 
held  me  back.  But  'tis  not  true  that  I have  wronged  you 
in  aught.  I was  a weak  fool,  and  wholly  a savage  to 
have  believed,  when  we  were  wedded,  that  a King  with 
four  wives  could  be  true  to  his  Queen !”  she  answered 
with  scorn. 

“Abstinence  is  the  merit  and  office  of  women.  Men 
know  not  what  it  is.  You  should  have  remained  chaste, 
Olympias,  nor  found  excuse,  despite  what  you  say,  in 
my  shortcomings.  But  you  have  far  outdone  me  in 
gross  excesses.  The  bacchanalian  orgies  in  which  you 
take  part  in  the  mountain  solitudes,  are  but  a cover  to 
your  liaisons  with  Gods  and  men.  I,  myself,  not  six 
months  past,  found  a serpent  half  hidden  in  your  gar- 
ments as  you  lay  asleep;  proving,  oh  Queen,  if  proof 
were  needed,  of  your  commerce  with  the  Gods.  Is  it 
any  wonder  then  that  you  call  your  son  ‘The  God-like 
Alexander,’  ” Philip  cried  in  rage,  for  of  the  communion 
of  mortals  with  the  Gods,  he  fully  believed,  as  did  his 
superstitious  countrymen. 

“Seeing  near  me  a tame  and  harmless  serpent,  your 
besotted  mind,  overwrought  with  v/ine  and  wanton  in- 
dulgence, conjures  up  and  holds  fast  this  base  suspicion. 
Know,  oh  King,  that  I sought  in  the  Orphic  ecstasy  and 
Thracian  orgies,  some  sorcerer’s  way,  some  magic  spell 
to  win  you  back  to  me.  Nay,  you  believe  not  what  you 
say,  but  belie  me  only  to  excuse  your  acts  of  infidelity 
and  shame,”  she  answered,  burying  her  face  in  her  hands. 

“I  speak  only  the  truth.  Others  wiser  than  I in  such 
matters  know  what  T aver  to  be  true,”  the  King  answered 
soberly.  For  he  was,  in  the  religious  phantasies  of  the 


249 


Philip,  King  of  Macedon 

age,  not  less  credulous  than  the  most  ignorant  and  bar- 
barous of  men.  “However,  be  it  as  it  may,  henceforth 
our  paths  lie  apart.  I claim  not  to  be  different  from  what 
I am.  The  half-tamed  savage,  however  chaste  she  may 
be,  makes  but  a sorry  mate  for  the  conqueror  of  Greece 
and  master  of  the  world,  be  his  morals  good  or  bad.  At 
the  eleventh  hour,  and  all  too  late,  I am  determined  to 
put  you  away  and  so  end  the  turmoil  of  our  growing 
court,”  he  answered  with  brutal  candor. 

“Such  words,  oh  King,  ill  become  a Prince  born  of  a 
line  of  polygamous  bastards.  The  Molo’ssian  monarchs 
from  whom  I come,  trace  their  descent  from  the  God- 
like Achilles  and  outrank  the  petty  traffickers  of  Argos 
in  glory,  as  the  sun  does  the  moon,”  she  answered  scorn- 
fully. 

“Yet,*  though  nine  hundred  years  have  passed,  your 
people  are  no  whit  greater,  no  whit  less  savage  than  their 
ancestor,  nor  ever  will  be,”  Philip  answered  wearily. 

“If  I am  outspoken,  it  is  not  that  I am  less  civilized 
than  you,  but  that  you  hide  your  savage  nature  under 
a varnish  of  polite  speech.  Nor  too  well,  poor  King,  for 
but  now,  when  angered,  it  gave  way  to  the  jargon  of 
your  barbarous  ancestors  as  the  pig  returns  to  the  mire. 
So,  too,  it  is  of  Alexander  when  angered,  albeit  he  was 
the  pupil  of  Aristotle.  Nay,  you  are  wholly  a savage 
like  your  people  who  wear  a cord  about  their  bodies  if, 
perchance,  they  have  not  yet  killed  an  enemy.  So  true 
is  this  that  if  one  but  pinch  your  neck,  the  bristles  of  the 
wild  boar  would  straightway  obtrvtde  themselves,”  the 
Queen  answered,  carried  away  with  anger  and  scorn. 

“Cease,  woman!  I care  not  if  the  blood  of  all  the 


250 


Iskander 


barbarians  who  fought  before  Troy  run  in  your  veins,  I 
am  still  determined  to  be  free.  Your  tigerish  nature 
allows  me  neither  happiness  nor  quiet.” 

“Can  you  do  this  brutish  thing  after  all  these  years, 
Philip,  and  doing  it  cast  suspicion  upon  your  trusting 
and  loyal  son,  the  kingly  Alexander?”  she  answered, 
striving  to  restrain  herself. 

“Nay,  he  may  still  look  to  succeed  me  on  the  throne, 
if  he  do  naught  to  cross  my  will.  I carry  not  my  purpose 
to  such  lengths  at  this  time.” 

“But  later  you  will  put  him  away  should  you  have  a 
son  by  this  painted  wanton.  Nay,  deny  it  not.  I read 
it  in  your  wavering  eyes,  but  ere  you  shall  commit  so 
great  a crime  I will  kill  you  with  my  own  hands  if  no 
one  else  has  the  spirit  to  free  the  world  of  so  great  a 
monster!”  she  exclaimed  with  uplifted  face,  as  if  swear- 
ing it. 

“Nor  will  you  wait  so  long  if  the  stories  of  your  in- 
trigues be  true.  I have  returned  to  Pella  in  good  time, 
it  seems,  if  I would  not  face  rebellion  in  my  own  house- 
hold,” he  cried,  backing  away  as  if  his  life  were  threat- 
ened. 

“I  know  nett  with  what  lies  the  creatures  who  befoul 
the  court  have  sought  to  poison  your  mind.  For  of  in- 
trigues or  conspiracy,  or  thought  of  it,  there  is  no  word 
of  truth,”  she  answered,  as  if  astonished  at  what  he  said. 

“Call  you  it  not  conspiracy  to  fill  Alexander’s  mind 
with  thoughts  of  an  alliance  with  the  wily  Persian  at  a 
time  when  Macedonia  meditates  the  invasion  and  con- 
quest of  that  perfidious  country?”  the  King  answered, 
remembering  Antipater’s  words  and  making  use  of  them. 


Philip,  King  of  Macedon 


251 


“It  is  a lie,  oh  King,  for  Alexander  has  no  thought 
of  such  a thing.” 

“Not  content  to  wean  the  Prince  from  my  great  enter- 
prise, this  cunning  Princess  must  needs  array  him  openly 
against  me,  the  King!  Of  this,  as  of  the  other  I am 
well  advised,”  he  cried,  striding  back  and  forth  as  if 
crazed. 

“This  unjust  suspicion,  for  it  is  nothing  less,  is  no 
wise  different  from  your  insane  distrust  of  me.  For 
know,  oh  King,  the  Princess  is  of  such  gentleness  that 
she  could  not  be  brought  to  cherish  unkind  thoughts  of 
you,  had  any  one  the  heart  to  thus  disturb  her  sweet 
nature.  She  thinks  you  great  and  kingly,  not  the  gross, 
licentious  thing  you  are.  Nor  is  there  aught  more  of 
truth  in  what  you  say  concerning  Alexander’s  thoughts 
of  her,  or,  if  it  be  true,  it  is  not  unworthy  his  kingly 
nature,  nor  does  it  meditate  harm  to  you  or  your  ambi- 
tious projects,”  the  Queen  responded,  as  the  she-bear 
might  defend  her  young. 

“He  would  scarce  breathe  his  intentions  if  it  were 
true,  but  would  bide  his  time,  nor  ask  permission  of 
any  one.” 

“Therein,  Philip,  he  is  like  his  father,  for  what  heed 
paid  you  to  the  clamor  of  your  countrymen  when  we 
were  wedded.  Men  born  to  rule  choose  their  mates,  nor  / 
ask  the  friendly  offices  of  others,  and  if  Alexander  loves 
the  Princess  he  will  wed  her  and  no  other.  Take  heed,“ 
then,  oh  King,  nor  oppose  him  idly,  for  you  have  no 
more  loyal  subject  than  he.” 

“Thus  wedded  he  would  have  no  heart  in  the  Per- 
sian war,  and  without  him  half  my  army  were  as  well 


252 


Iskander 


at  home.  For  the  eagle  sweeping  down  from  the  moun- 
tain crag  is  not  more  certain  of  its  trembling  prey  than 
Alexander  when  charging  with  lance  and  glistening 
sword  at  the  head  of  my  invincible  cavalry/’  Philip  cried, 
with  impassioned  voice.  ‘'No!  I will  have  none  of  it. 
Rather  wilPI  break  with  him  entirely  and  so  build  anew. 
Now,  oh  Queen,  that  I have  disclosed  my  set  purpose,” 
the  King  went  on,  “choose  which  you  will  do,  take  up 
your  residence  in  the  castle  at  Edessa,  where  every  honor 
shall  be  paid  you,  or  seek  a home  with  your  brother,  the 
Molossian  King?” 

“Is  it  true,  then,  that  your  passion  for  Cleopatra  has 
reached  such  height  that  nothing  can  stay  you  from  this 
disgraceful  step?”  the  Queen  answered,  as  if  some  vestige 
of  hope  still  found  a place  in  her  heart. 

“Yes.  The  marriage  is  as  a thing  accomplished  and 
naught  shall  delay  its  consummation,”  the  King  answered 
sternly,  his  eyes  coldly  meeting  hers. 

“Then  may  the  Gods  whom  you  profess  to  worship 
and  serve,  bring  you  and  her  to  a speedy  and  frightful 
death  for  transgressing  their  laws  and  the  customs  of 
enlightened  men,”  she  cried,  lifting  her  clenched  hands 
to  heaven. 

“Lest  such  a thing  should  happen,  my  gentle  mate,  I 
have  already  placed  my  image  beside  those  of  the  Gdds, 
that  I may  enjoy  like  freedom  df  action,”  he  answered 
grimly.  “While  you  curse  you  do  not  answer.  Choose 
quickly  that  this  interview  may  end,”  the  King  cried, 
awaiting  her  response. 

“If  your  diseased  mind  had  not  lost  all  semblance  of 
dignity  and  honor  you  would  not  ask  so  foolish  a ques- 


253 


Philip,  King  of  Macedon 

tion,  base  King,  but  would  know  that  I could  not  breathe 
the  air  of  Macedonia  as  a subject  where  I had  once  been 
Queen.  There,  go !”  she  went  on,  her  hand  toying  with 
the  dagger  at  her  girdle,  “lest  I kill  you  and  so  bring 
a new  sorrow  to  the  heart  of  the  kingly  Alexander,”  and 
not  waiting  his  departure  she  turned  and  strode  from 
the  room. 

While  Philip,  thus  left  alone,  stood  still,  pondering  on 
what  had  occurred,  a hurried  footstep  caused  him  to 
start,  as  if  he  were  already  beset  by  hidden  enemies. 
Turning  hastily  about  the  door  flew  open  and  Alexander 
rushing  in  threw  his  arms  about  the  King. 

“Welcome  back  to  Pella,  father  and  King,”  he  cried, 
kissing  Philip  on  both  his  cheeks. 

“You  are  glad,  then,  that  I have  come?”  Philip  an- 
swered, doubtingly,  surprised  at  Alexander’s  affection- 
ate greeting.  “I  have  heard  that  all  your  martial  ardor 
and  fierce  longing  for  war  has  given  place  to  soft  repose 
and  idle  indulgence  about  the  palace  and  so  might  not 
welcome  my  return  as  formerly.” 

“There  is  no  act  or  word  to  stir  the  blood  nor  feed 
suggestion  when  you  are  absent,  oh  King,  and  so  nothing 
is  left  us  but  to  wait  your  coming  with  such  patience  as 
we  can,”  Alexander  answered,  excusing  himself. 

“You  were  wont  to  find  an  outlet  for  your  energies  in 
the  chase  when  duties  of  the  state  did  not  claim  you,  oh 
Prince.  Now,  our  Molossian  dogs  grow  fat  in  their 
kennels  for  want  of  work,  and  you  so  soft  of  texture 
as  to  be  scai'ce  able  to  lift  a spear,”  the  King  answered, 
eying  his  soft  cheeks  and  delicate  hands. 

“Nay,  oh  King,  you  do  me  wrong,  for  you  being 


254 


Iskander 


away,  the  care  of  our  guests  and  the  courtesy  due  their 
high  mission  has  claimed  my  time  and  thoughts.” 

“Is  it  true,  as  I am  told,  that  your  high  ambition  to 
overrun  Asia  has  lost  its  vigor  in  the  company  of  these 
soft  spoken  courtiers?  Such  stories  are  common  talk 
about  the  court.” 

“It  may  be  true,  oh  King,  that  my  ardor  has  lost  a 
part  of  its  fire  in  the  advantages  the  ambassadors  hold 
out  to  us  to  prolong  the  peace.  Is  it  strange  that  it 
should  be  thus  ?” 

“I  hold  it  so,  for  it  is  known  to  you  that  I have  pro- 
longed the  negotiations  until  I was  ready  to  declare  war. 
Returning,  I may  still  dally  with  their  overtures  until 
my  preparations  are  more  forward.  Does  that  look  like 
continuing  the  peace?  No,  there  can  be  no  such  thing 
unless  by  bribery  or  other  treacherous  means,  Persia 
compasses  my  death  and  yours.” 

“Nay,  I cannot  believe  such  thing  possible,  oh  King, 
for  Oxyartes  is  all  that  is  honorable  among  men,”  Alex- 
ander responded  with  warmth. 

“Being  such  a man,  would  the  great  King  make  him 
the  means  of  accomplishing  his  murderous  end?  He  is 
but  a cloak  to  cover  the  acts  of  others.  But  do  not  tell 
me  you  have  cooled  in  our  purpose  to  the  point  of  siding 
with  these  emissaries?”  the  King  cried,  knowing  Alex- 
ander would  answer  truly. 

“I  may  not  deceive  you,  oh  King,  by  saying  that  other 
thoughts  have  not  somewhat  overshadowed  those  I once 
had  regarding  the  invasion  of  Persia,”  Alexander  an- 
swered with  some  reluctance. 

“What  think  you  of  the  matter  now,  if  you  still  make 
me  your  confidant?  In  times  past  you  have  never  been 


255 


Philip,  King  of  Macedon 

backward  in  expressing  your  thoughts,  and  often  to  your 
detriment,”  the  King  exclaimed  impatiently. 

“The  change,  for  change  there  is,  oh  King,  does  not 
grow  out  of  what  has  been  said,  so  much  as  what  I saw 
as  I traversed  unhappy  and  distracted  Greece.  It’s  ruined 
cities,  abandoned  fields,  and  lawless  life  cry  aloud  for  a 
ministering  hand,  and  no  one  less  wise  than  you,  oh  King, 
can  accomplish  a task  so  difficult,”  Alexander  answered, 
his  face  flushing  at  the  remembrance  of  what  he  had  seen. 

“Go  on!  If  the  Persian  invasion  recedes,  what  other 
object,  save  that  you  mention,  rises  to  take  its  place;  for 
you  have  ever  been  more  bent  on  the  conquest  of  Persia 
than  I ?”  Philip  answered,  gazing  with  the  admiration  of 
other  days  into  the  glowing  face  of  his  immortal  son. 

“I  have  thought  it  now  the  better  course,  oh  King,” 
Alexander  went  on,  his  gaze  fixed  on  the  distant  moun- 
tains, “to  stay  our  hand  a while  till  you  have  welded  into 
one  harmonious  nation  all  the  petty  and  discordant  states 
of  Greece.  This  will  not  be  difficult  nor  long  of  accom- 
plishment for  one  so  great  and  wise;  for  once  the  people 
feel  the  security  of  peace  and  may  go  unquestioned  where 
they  like,  all  their  petty  jealousies  and  vain  strivings 
after  immaterial  and  impossible  things  will  vanish  into 
thin  air.  Having  in  this  way  founded  a great  and  lasting 
empire,  you  may  pursue  your  purposes  where  you  like 
with  a united  people  at  your  back.” 

“What  would  you  do  once  Greece  were  united  as  it 
should  have  been  centuries  ago?”  the  King  asked,  as  if 
such  thoughts  had  not  bear  absent  from  his  own  mind. 

“It  were  presumptuous  in  me,  oh  King,  to  say  what  I 
would  do  in  the  presence  of  one  who  has  accomplished 


256 


Iskander 


so  much  with  resources  so  scant/'  Alexander  answered, 
excusing  himself. 

‘‘Nay,  go  on.  Your  wisdom  is  not  measured  by  years, 
nor  is  it  like  that  of  other  men,"  the  King  answered,  his 
heart  full  of  love  for  his  son. 

“Then,  oh  King,  if  you  command  me,  Greece  being 
pacified,  I would  bring  under  its  enlightened  rule  all  Eu- 
rope, including  Rome,  which  rises  like  a menacing  spectre 
in  the  west.  Afterwards,  with  the  continent  behind  us," 
he  went  on,  his  face  upraised,  “Asia  would  respond  with 
scarce  a struggle  to  our  united  arms." 

“All  that  you  say  is  possible  and  perhaps  the  better 
way,  but  Asia  hoards  the  wealth  of  the  world  and  should 
come  first ; with  its  accumulated  treasures  the  other  may 
be  accomplished  at  our  ease,"  the  King  answered  as  if 
no  phase  of  the  problem  had  escaped  his  alert  mind. 

“Gold  will  not  cure  the  ills  of  Greece,  oh  King.  Nor 
is  it  much  needed  to  subdue  the  barbarous  hordes  of  Eu- 
rope. Besides,  will  not  Persia,  if  she  be  wise,  use  her 
vast  stores  to  confront  us  with  all  the  disaffected  soldiers 
of  Greece,  backed  by  her  own  people?  Such  forces  we 
could  by  no  means  easily  overcome  if  properly  com- 
manded," Alexander  answered,  as  if  to  draw  the  other  on. 

“Persia  has  lost  its  enterprise  and  war-like  spirit,  and 
her  kings  have  become  little  more  than  hoarders  of  ac- 
cumulated treasures.  This  wealth  she  will  not  use  to  create 
new  armies,  but  will  place  dependence  on  her  servile 
hordes,  scourging  them  to  battle.  We,  conquering  at 
last,  as  we  must,  will  find  the  treasuries  of  the  empire 
full,"  Philip  cried  with  glistening  eyes,  as  if  he  already 
beheld  the  gold  and  silver. 


257 


Philip,  King  of  Macedon 

“But  while  you  are  away  no  progress  will  be  made 
at  home,  and  should  mishap  befall,  Greece  will  remain 
torn  by  warring  factions,  and  in  the  end  Macedonia  will 
be  left  a thing  apart  and  of  no  more  account  in  the  world’s 
progress  than  when  you  ascended  the  throne,  oh  King,” 
Alexander  answered,  as  if  foreseeing  the  fate  of  his 
country. 

“Mishap  cannot  befall  us.  If  the  Ten  Thousand  could 
traverse  Persia  from  the  Tigris  to  the  western  confines 
without  a leader,  surely  nothing  can  befall  the  mighty 
army  of  Macedonia. 

“I  only  tell  you  my  thoughts,  oh  King,  for  however 
you  may  decide,  I will  follow  and  with  loyal  heart;  but 
were  I King  I would  do  as  I say  and,  having  my  way, 
would,  I know,  be  less  wise  in  its  exercise  than  you,” 
Alexander  answered,  having  no  thought  of  standing  out 
against  his  father.  For  in  the  measureless  despotism 
of  Macedonia,  all  were  taught  obedience  to  the  Sovereign 
and,  save  in  the  penalty  of  death,  as  it  might  affect  the 
army,  all  alike  yielded  as  children  to  his  absolute  will. 

“You  are  as  fit  to  rule  as  I,  oh  Prince,  and  should  I 
fall  Macedonia  will  lose  nothing  by  the  change.  What 
you  advise  were  perhaps  the  wiser  course,  but  Persia, 
through  her  fear,  is  a menace  to  our  country,  as  she  has 
ever  been  to  Greece.  Its  hoarded  wealth  is  needed  to 
fertilize  the  commerce  of  the  world,  and  through  this 
war,  waged  on  a hated  country,  discordant  Greece  may 
be  welded  into  a compact  and  united  nation.  So  it  will 
be,  Alexander,  but  for  the  present  the  determination, 
while  suspected,  may  not  be  openly  avowed,”  the  King 
concluded,  putting  his  arm  about  Alexander  and  leading 
him  from  the  room. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

CLEOPATRA^  ATTALUs'  NIECE. 

Taking  leave  of  the  King  in  the  great  court  of  the 
palace,  Alexander  stood  still,  watching  with  admiration 
the  resolute  stride  and  robust  form  of  the  great  monarch, 
as  he  hastened  with  buoyant  step  to  his  apartments. 
Neither  dissipation  nor  the  hardships  of  the  camp,  nor 
wounds  received  in  battle,  it  was  apparent,  had  as  yet  in 
any  way  impaired  Philip’s  vigor  of  body  and  mind. 
While  Alexander  thus  watched  the  monarch  as  he  dis- 
appeared unattended,  within  the  palace,  the  love-lorn 
Pausanias  approached  with  wan  smile  and  deferential 
manner.  This  young  nobleman,  whom  we  left  in  the 
opening  part  of  our  story,  half  crazed  with  grief  over  the 
fickle  conduct  of  his  love,  Cleopatra,  had  not  grown  more 
reconciled  with  time,  tO'  his  disappointment.  His  face, 
from  being  full  and  rubicund,  had  become  thin  and  sal- 
low. Dark  circles  surrounded  his  eyes,  and  a settled 
melancholy  showed  itself  in  all  his  movements.  No 
longer  taking  interest  in  his  duties  he  gave  himself  up 
unreservedly  to  gambling  with  Mithrines,  of  whom,  it 
was  said,  he  had  won  great  sums  of  money.  These  he 
spent  for  jewelry  and  in  the  procurement  of  rich  and 
costly  garments  with  which  to  adorn  his  person.  For 
the  grief  of  this  vain  and  weak  man,  as  is  often  the  case 
in  life,  was  never  so  great  as  to  outweigh  his  thought  of 
self.  Winning  thus  from  Mithrines  and  being  much  in 


259 


Cleopatra,  Attains’  Niece 

his  society,  the  latter  had,  little  by  little,  come  to  exercise 
complete  ascendency  over  the  mind  of  the  wretched  noble- 
man. This  influence  he  made  use  of  to  incite  Pausanias’ 
passions  and  inflame  his  hatred  of  the  King.  While  thus 
ingratiating  himself  with  the  forlorn  lover,  Mithrines 
had  not  neglected  to  extend  his  influence  in  other  direc- 
tions likely  to  be  of  use  to  him.  Losing  constantly  and 
cursing  with  simulated  wrath  the  wretched  fortune  that^ 
pursued  him,  he  still  played  with  all  who  sought  such 
diversion.  In  this  way  Amyntas,  through  his  winnings 
from  Mithrines,  was  now  abundantly  supplied  with  gold, 
which  he  wasted  on  his  stable  and  in  vain  ostentation  and 
luxuriance  of  life.  Between  Mithrines  and  this  moody 
and  disloyal  Prince,  the  closest  intimacy  had  grown  up,  so 
that  they  were  like  two  brothers ; but  with  such  show  of 
openness  and  loud  expression  of  admiration  and  respect 
on  Mithrines’  part  for  the  King  and  Alexander,  that 
many  thought  him  about  to  forswear  his  allegiance  to 
Persia  to  return  once  more  to  the  Grecian  service  under 
Philip.  Nor  did  he,  like  so  many,  avoid  or  slight  the 
Queen,  but  sought  every  opportunity  to  ingratiate  himself 
in  her  favor  by  the  extreme  deference  he  paid  her  as  a 
woman  and  as  the  Queen  of  Macedonia. 

Among  others,  disaffected  like  Amyntas,  who  sought 
the  company  of  Mithrines,  were  three  Lyncestian  nobles, 
who  in  the  course  of  events,  as  history  recounts,  were 
destined  to  end  their  lives  so  unhappily.  These  young 
noblemen,  like  Pausanias  and  Amyntas,  won  great  sums 
of  Mithrines  and,  like  them,  ended  by  becoming  the  mere 
creatures  of  his  will.  In  this  way  the  wily  Persian  at- 
tached to  his  person  a wide  and  subservient  following 


260 


I skander 


among  the  dissolute  nobles  of  the  country.  Curiously, 
his  losses  were  always  to  those  who  had  cause  of  com- 
plaint against  Philip  or  Alexander,  or  were  likely  to  be 
useful  to  him  in  the  prosecution  of  his  hidden  projects. 
Amyntas,  having  now  abundant  means,  lost  no  oppor- 
tunity to  build  up  his  influence  among  the  dependents  of 
the  court,  and  seeking  the  society  of  Pausanias,  he  kept 
alive  his  animosities  by  fulsome  flattery  and  open  re- 
proach of  the  King.  This,  until  at  last,  the  deluded  lover 
looked  upon  himself  as  so  grievously  misused  that  he 
was  bound  in  honor  to  seek  redress  for  his  wrongs,  even 
to  the  extent  of  putting  to  death  those  who  had  injured 
him.  Such  were  the  secret  intrigues  of  the  court,  fos- 
tered by  Mithrines  and  Amyntas,  on  Philip’s  arrival  at 
Pella. 

Much  cast  down  over  the  King’s  return  and  the  rumor 
that  he  was  to  consummate  his  marriage  with  Cleopatra 
without  delay,  Pausanias  approached  Alexander  with 
halting  step  and  woe-begone  visage.  The  latter,  seeing 
him  cried  out,  half  in  raillery: 

“What  new  sorrow  oppresses  you,  Pausanias?  Yes- 
terday you  were  aglow  with  Cleopatra’s  coming;  today 
you  are  like  a man  sick  with  the  jaundice.  Does  she 
still  look  coldly  on  your  suit,  oh  friend,  or  have  you  some 
new  grievance  to  relate?” 

“Do  not  treat  my  passion  with  derision,  oh  Prince. 
Wit  steeped  in  sarcasm,  though  it  come  from  the  King, 
could  scarce  be  patiently  borne  if  one  expected  something 
else,”  Pausanias  replied  sullenly. 

“Nay,  I had  no  thought  to  wound  you,  for  I wish  you 
success  in  all  your  undertakings,”  Alexander  answered 
soberly. 


261 


Cleopatra,  Attains’  Niece 

“Know  you  not  that  all  my  hopes  are  blasted?  A dish 
dropped  from  Edessa’s  cliff  could  not  be  more  completely 
broken  by  the  fall,”  Pausanias  exclaimed,  with  moody 
brow. 

“For  shame!  You  are  but  a lame  lover,  Pausanias,  to 
despair  so  quickly.  Women  prize  themselves  highly  if 
they  be  much  sought  after  and  yield  not  readily  under 
such  circumstances.  You  lack  courage  and  at  the  first  re- 
pulse throw  away  your  arms  and  fly  as  if  the  citadel  were 
impregnable.  Even  I could  do  better,”  Alexander  an- 
swered, striving  to  cheer  the  other. 

“I  would  you  would  try,  for  she  will  no  longer  grant 
me  access  to  her  presence.” 

“It  is  but  pique,  Pausanias,  or  a trick  to  try  your  con- 
stancy. You  are  jealous  and  she  tortures  you,  for  you 
were  ever  her  favorite,  if  I remember  aright,  and  women 
do  not  change  thus  quickly.” 

“Their  love  cools  with  time  and  ambitious  dreams,  oh 
Prince.  Then  they  welcome  the  snow  and  chill  of  winter 
not  less  joyfully  than  the  opening  buds  of  spring.” 

“Not  so.  The  flower  of  Cleopatra’s  life  has  scarce 
opened  and  has  as  yet  lost  no  part  of  its  fragrant  sweet- 
ness. She  knows  naught,  more  than  you  or  I,  of  the 
chill  of  age,  and  so  her  heart  cannot  have  changed  as  you 
imagine.” 

“If  that  be  so  her  vanity  or  the  scheming  of  her  uncle, 
who  exhibits  her  charms  as  one  would  a horse  in  the 
open  market,  have  wrought  the  change,  for  change  there 
is.” 

“Attains  would  pawn  his  wife  to  gain  preferment  with 
the  King,  and  so  having  a selfish  purpose,  may  have 


262 


Iskander 


sought  to  influence  her  against  you.  But  if  it  be  so,  why 
give  way  to  despair?  Men  do  not  yield  in  such  matters 
to  the  will  of  others,”  Alexander  answered,  thinking  of 
Roxana. 

“Do  you  advise  me  thus,  oh  Prince?  You!  The  King’s 
son  I”  Pausanias  cried,  starting  back  and  gazing  on  Alex- 
ander in  astonishment,  not  knowing  that  the  latter  was 
ignorant  of  the  intrigue  between  the  King  and  Cleopatra. 

“Yes,  by  all  the  Gods.  Why  not?  Men’s  desires  in 
such  things,  being  honorable  to  them,  should  not  be 
lightly  abandoned.  Nay,  were  the  King  himself  to  com- 
mand me  I would  not  yield  were  I in  your  place.  No! 
A hundred  times  no!”  Alexander  cried,  still  thinking  of 
Roxana. 

“Then,  oh  Prince,  do  you  come  to  my  assistance;  do 
you  plead  my  cause.  Thus  I may  succeed ; may  still  hope 
to  win  her.  Alone  I shall  fail,  and  doing  so  curse  the 
day  that  I was  born.” 

“How  can  I aid  you?  Men  must  act  for  themselves 
in  such  matters,”  Alexander  answered  decisively. 

“Not  in  such  a case  as  this,  oh  Prince.  Attains  may 
not  turn  you  away,  and  Cleopatra  holds  you  in  such  high 
regard  that  I was  once  jealous  of  her  preferment  lest  it 
meant  something  deeper,”  Pausanias  mournfully  re- 
sponded. 

“Foolishly,  you  see,  and  without  cause,  as  in  the  pres- 
ent case.  Indeed,  so  sure  am  I that  her  love  has  not 
cooled  that  1 will  lay  a wager  that  it  has  not,  if  you  are 
so  inclined.” 

“I  accept  the  wager,  oh  Prince,  and  if  it  turn  out  as 
you  imagine  I will  gladly  spend  all  I have  to  pay  the 


263 


Cleopatra,  Attains’  Niece 

debt.  Lose  no  time  then,  oh  friend,  in  seeking  her,  lest 
you  be  too  late,”  Pausanias  pleaded. 

“If  I consent  to  do  you  this  favor,  be  not  idle,  but 
hasten  to  the  King  and  enlist  his  good  offices  in  your 
behalf,”  Alexander  cried,  and  without  waiting  for  a re- 
sponse hastily  left  the  palace.  Emerging  an  hour  later 
from  the  city  gate  of  the  fortress,  he  was  attended  by  a 
troop  of  horse  and  a score  of  pages,  all  mounted  like  him- 
self on  steeds  richly  caparisoned.  This  as  if  he  wished 
to  clothe  his  mission  with  every  formality  of  kingly 
dignity  and  grace  likely  to  add  to  its  success.  A purple 
cloak  lined  with  satin  enveloped  the  Prince’s  shoulders, 
and  from  the  kausia  that  covered  his  head,  and  which 
only  the  King  or  he  might  wear,  waving  feathers  grace- 
fully drooped.  Beneath  his  cloak  a silken  coat  covered 
his  body,  his  waist  being  girt  about  by  a rich  belt  from 
which  a jeweled  sword  hung  suspended.  White  doe- 
skin breeches,  fitting  close,  covered  his  limbs,  and  to  com- 
plete his  costume,  soft  boots  of  deer-skin,  with  dangling 
tassels,  encased  his  feet  and  lower  extremities.  The 
bridles  of  the  highly  spirited  horses  which  the  cavalcade 
bestrode,  like  the  woolen  blankets  that  served  for  seats, 
were  of  creamy  white,  while  from  the  head-stalls  of  the 
prancing  steeds,  red  plumes  nodded  in  the  morning  air. 
Riding  close  about  the  Prince,  the  crimson  cloaks  of  the 
pages  and  the  trailing  feathers  that  adorned  their  hats, 
gave  to  the  cavalcade  a kingly  air  well  befitting  the  love 
of  splendor  that  characterized  Alexander  throughout  his 
life. 

Slowly  pursuing  his  way,  the  citizens  and  soldiers 
crowding  the  street  filled  the  air  with  the  cry,  “The 


264 


Iskander 


Prince!  The  Prince!’’  watching'  him  with  love  and  friend- 
ly comment  long  after  he  had  passed. 

Reaching  the  stately  dwelling  of  Attains  the  gay  cav- 
alcade entered  the  court  that  hemmed  it  in,  the  Prince 
bowing  and  smiling  in  response  to  the  salutations  of  the 
throng  gathered  about  the  wide  enclosure.  Dismount- 
ing and  leaving  his  horse  in  charge  of  the  waiting  grooms, 
he  entered  the  palace  unattended. 

Attains,  the  uncle  of  Cleopatra,  whose  place  of  resi- 
dence Alexander  now  visited,  was  one  of  the  richest  and 
most  powerful  noblemen  of  Macedonia.  A high  officer 
in  the  army,  the  King  made  him  his  companion  and  in- 
timate. For  he  was  like  Philip  in  his  appetites;  or,  if  not 
like  him,  made  it  so  appear,  joining  with  the  King  in  all 
his  revels  and  applauding  his  vices  more  than  his  noble 
quqilities.  Indeed,  it  was  through  Philip’s  weaknesses,  as 
in  the  case  of  most  men,  that  this  great  noble  attached 
himself  to  the  King’s  person.  Attains’  wealth  and  ever 
growing  influence  made  him  so  great  a factor  in  the 
affairs  of  his  country  that  it  was  feared  by  many  he 
would  sooner  or  later  aspire  to  the  throne.  Now,  all  the 
boundless  resources  of  this  resolute  and  ambitious  noble 
were  directed  to  the  successful  consummation  of  the  great 
intrigue  he  had  in  hand,  the  marriage  of  his  niece  to  the 
King.  For  it  was  little  else  than  an  intrigue,  in  the  light 
of  Cleopatra’s  youth  and  the  age  of  Philip  and  his 
numerous  wives  and  concubines.  However,  Cleopatra 
made  no  objection  to  the  union  because  of  this,  but  sec- 
onded the  efforts  of  her  uncle  by  every  device  that  could 
excite  the  satiated  passions  of  the  blase  and  dissolute 
King.  Indeed,  the  concord  between  uncle  and  niece 


265 


Cleopatra,  Attalus’  Niece 

seemed  to  bear  out,  what  many  thought,  and  others  gave 
utterance  to,  that  the  relations  between  the  two  were  of 
a more  delicate  nature  than  their  kinship  warranted.  To 
further  the  marriage,  Attalus  gave  out  that  at  his  death 
Cleopatra  would  inherit  all  his  wealth.  But  this  was  a 
gratuitous  gift,  for  the  beautiful  and  accomplished  woman 
held  the  King’s  mind  and  passions  in  such  thralldom  that 
he  was  ready  to  sacrifice  the  peace  of  his  family  and  the 
good  of  his  kingdom  to  consummate  his  marriage  with 
the  entrancing  creature. 

Cleopatra  was,  at  this  time,  twenty  years  of  age  and 
possessed,  withal,  of  a full  and  voluptuous  beauty  that 
seemed  rather  to  belong  to  the  south  than  the  cold,  in- 
hospitable climate  of  Macedonia.  Apprised  of  Alex- 
ander’s visit,  she  waited  to  receive  him,  her  resplendent 
charms  aided  by  every  art  that  could  enhance  their  worth. 
As  she  reclined  in  graceful  abandon  on  a silken  divan, 
beneath  an  overhanging  canopy  embossed  with  gold,  she 
had  the  impatient  air  of  a Queen  awaiting  the  advent  of 
a favored  suitor.  Her  graceful  head  was  crowned  with 
a pointed  diadem  of  gold  about  which  diminishing  circles 
of  pearls  were  wound  in  profuse  ornamentation.  Her 
Grecian  robe  of  purple,  transparent  in  texture  and  heavily 
embroidered  with  silver  and  gold  spangles,  was  cut  low 
so  as  to  fully  display  her  swan-like  neck  and  voluptuous 
bosom.  In  all  save  this,  her  garments  were  rather  Ori- 
ental than  Grecian.  Indeed,  except  for  her  blue  eyes 
and  pink  complexion  one  would  have  said  she  belonged 
rather  to  Susa  than  to  Greece.  About  her  slender  waist 
a broad  girdle  of  beaten  gold,  inlaid  with  rare  jewels, 
served  to  confine  her  dress  which  fell  in  graceful  folds 


266 


I skander 


about  her  tall  and  willowy  figure.  From  her  girdle  woven 
panels  of  gold  and  silver  studded  with  jewels  reached 
to  her  feet.  Strings  of  pearls  fastened  with  turquoise  and 
richly  studded  with  rubies  formed  a resplendent  collar 
about  her  beautiful  neck.  Her  abundant  hair,  which  was 
of  a dark  golden  color,  was  adorned  with  clusters  and 
festoons  of  pearls,  held  in  place  by  golden  clasps.  About 
her  wrists  and  beautiful  arms,  and  encasing  her  ankles, — 
which  showed  above  her  satin  slippers, — bracelets  and 
bands  of  gold,  richly  studded  with  jewels,  were  clasped. 
In  complement  to  these,  and  that  nothing  should  be  want- 
ing to  enhance  her  every  charm,  the  fingers  of  her  white 
and  shapely  hands  were  covered  with  jeweled  rings  of 
rare  design  and  richness.  To  complete  her  costume  and' 
give  piquancy  and  charm  to  her  beautiful  hands  and  arms, 
she  carried  a turquoise  fan  adorned  with  sapphires  and 
shaped  after  the  form  of  a lotus  leaf. 

As  Alexander  entered  the  stately  saloon  in  which  Cleo- 
patra reclined,  the  graceful  beauty,  rising  to  her  feet, 
hurried  forward,  and  meeting  him  in  the  middle  of  the 
room,  knelt  in  gracious  homage  and  kissed  his  hand. 

“Do  you  come  thus  early  and  in  such  state,  chivalrous 
Prince,  to  welcome  my  return  to  Pella?”  she  asked  in 
charming  confusion,  as  he  raised  her  to  her  feet.  “I 
have  been  so  long  away  I feared  you  had  forgotten  me 
or  your  friendship  had  grown  cold,”  she  concluded,  her 
face  lighting  up  with  undisgttised  pleasure,  as  he  led  her 
to  the  divan  she  had  just  left,  and  seated  himself  by  her 
side. 

“I  have  not  so  many  friends  of  my  youth,  sweet  Prin- 
cess, that  one  can  be  away  without  my  sorrowing,  or  re^ 


267 


Cleopatra,  Attalus’  Niece 

turn  without  my  hastening  to  welcome  her  home,”  he 
answered,  surveying  the  beautiful  creature  with  undis- 
guised admiration. 

“Do  you  find  me  changed,  as  I do  you,  and  for  the 
better  if  that  were  possible?”  she  replied  archly,  gazing 
into  his  attractive  countenance  with  rapt  eyes. 

“No,  sweet  Princess,  unless  you  have  grown  more 
beautiful  were  such  a thing  possible,”  he  answered,  with 
the  frank  candor  of  a friend. 

“For  shame,  oh  Prince,  to  flatter  the  trusting  com- 
panion of  your  youth.  While  I have  been  absent  you, 
it  is  plain,  have  learned  .the  courtier’s  trick  of  saying 
pleasant  things,”  she  answered,  scanning  his  face.  “But 
however  lightly  you  may  speak,  I have  ever  sought  to 
gain  your  favor.  You ; whom  so  many  strive  in  vain  to 
please.” 

“I  could  scarce  pay  an  undeserved  compliment,  sweet 
Princess,  to  one  who  has  enslaved  the  hearts  of  so  many 
gallant  noblemen  that  their  sighs  fill  the  court  like  a sum- 
mer gale,”  Alexander  replied,  pleased  that  she  should 
receive  him  with  so  much  favor. 

“Those  I care  least  to  please  annoy  me  with  their  im- 
portunities, while  those  I most  esteem  have  remained  in- 
different or  coldly  silent,”  she  answered,  gazing  into  his 
face  as  if  to  find  there  some  response  to  her  frank  avowal. 

“If  that  be  true,  they,  not  you,  have  been  the  losers. 
But  where  so  many  would  win  approval  you  can  scarce 
know  your  own  heart  for  bewilderment  of  numbers  and 
the  earnestness  with  which  they  plead  their  cause.” 

“Woman’s  love  cannot  be  confused,  but  stands  out  all 
the  more  clearly  from  comparison  of  numbers.  You,  oh 


268 


I skander 


Prince,  who  dream  only  of  war  and  how  to  acquit  your- 
self in  battle,  know  not  what  love  is  or  the  longings  of 
our  hearts,  having  no  heart  yourself.” 

“If  I have  seemed  not  to  have  a heart  heretofore  it  was 
but  seeming,”  he  answered  with  a sigh,  thinking  of  Rox- 
ana and  the  passion  that  consumed  him. 

“Then  we  distres.sed  mortals,  who  have  long  felt  its 
burden,  may  now  hope  for  some  measure  of  sympathy. 
Come,  sweet  Prince,”  she  went  on,  laying  her  hand  on 
his,  “confess  to  me  your  secret,  as  if  I were  your  love, 
for  in  nothing  can  I refuse  to  further  your  desires,  how- 
ever much  you  have  been  led  to  believe  the  contrary,”  she 
concluded,  thinking  of  the  King’s  suit. 

“Nay,  I come  not,  sweet  Princess,  to  lay  my  heart  bare, 
for  its  throbbing  would  find  no  response  in  the  breast  of 
another,  but  to  fulfill  a promise  to  one  so  desperately 
enamored  and  hopelessly,  as  he  believes,  that  I forget  my 
own  passion  in  sympathy  for  his.” 

“It  were  risking  less,  sweet  Prince,  were  you  to  lay 
bare  your  own  love,  for  naught,  not  even  the  King’s 
pleasure,  nay,  his  positive  command,  would  avail  aught 
with  me  against  the  desires  of  his  son,”  she  answered, 
with  passionate  earnestness. 

“My  errand  is  not  of  such  high  consequence,  oh  Prin- 
cess, but  goes  no  further  than  to  reawaken  in  your  heart 
the  love  you  once  bore  my  friend,  if  indeed  you  have 
ceased  to  look  upon  him  with  like  favor.” 

“Such  pleading  were  idle,  sweet  Prince,  but  who  is  it 
that  thus  enlists  your  good  offices,  if  indeed  you  really 
come  as  the  envoy  of  another?”  she  answered,  showing 
her  heart  as  in  a mirror. 


269 


Cleopatra,  Attains’  Niece 

^^One  you  have  ever  regarded  with  friendship,  and 
’twas  thought  with  a passion  far  deeper,”  he  answered, 
hesitating  whether  it  were  better  to  advance  or  recede. 

‘‘Then  you  are  serious  in  what  you  say,  oh  Prince. 
I had  thought  it  mere  pleasantry,”  she  answered,  her 
brow  darkening  with  vexation. 

“He  thinks  it  most  serious,  and  I as  well,  sweet  Prin- 
cess, else  I would  not  come  to  plead  his  cause.  Indeed, 
he  will  kill  himself  or  do  some  other  desperate  thing  if 
you  deny  him,  so  distraught  is  he  with  the  melancholy 
that  consumes  him.” 

“I  care  not  if  he  do,  nor  how  quickly.  But  who  is  this 
love-sick  fool  that  enlists  so  great  a personage  to  plead 
his  cause?”  she  answered  impatiently. 

“No  other  than  the  noble  Pausanias,  Cleopatra.  He 
believes  you  once  loved  him  and  may  again  look  upon 
him  with  favor,  if  not  restrained  by  your  august  uncle. 
Nay,  do  not  take  it  unkindly,”  the  Prince  went  on,  ob- 
serving her  clouded  face.  “Try  to  think  of  him  with 
some  favor,  for  he  is  so  consumed  by  his  mad  passion 
that  he  is  but  a shadow  of  his  former  self.” 

“Do  you  come,  sweet  Prince,  to  plead  the  cause  of  that 
weakling,  foregoing  your  own  love  in  his  vain  longings? 
You  are  more  generous  than  most  men,  but  unavailingly, 
as  you  would  see,  if  you  knew  aught  of  the  hearts  of 
women,”  she  exclaimed,  striving  to  read  his  thoughts  in 
his  open  face. 

“I  have  erred,  and  foolishly,  sweet  Princess,  in  believ- 
ing you  might  still  look  upon  Pausanias  with  favor. 
Now  nothing  is  left  me  but  to  crave  your  pardon  and 


270 


Iskander 


take  my  leave/’  Alexander  answered,  unable,  simple 
Prince,  to  understand  the  passion  she  evinced. 

‘M  never  regarded  his  love  except  as  a pleasantry,  and 
if  I led  him  on  ’twas  as  I would  bend  a horse  to  my  will, 
other  diversion  being  denied  me.  There!  do  not  speak 
of  him  again.  If  I have  done  wrong,  upbraid  me.  Call 
me  what  you  will,  Alexander,  for  your  reproaches  are 
far  sweeter  to  my  ears  than  the  pleadings  of  another,’’ 
she  answered,  her  voice  tremulous  with  passion. 

‘^No,  I will  not  weary  you  further  and  am  justly  re- 
proved, sweet  Princess,  for  meddling  in  things  about 
which  I know  so  little,”  he  answered,  rising  to  his  feet 
with  flushed  face. 

‘AVhat  I deny  him  with  scorn  I might  lay  down  my 
life  to  grant  another  if  he  but  spoke  the  word,”  she  an- 
swered, pulling  him  down  beside  her.  ‘Tt  were  more 
kingly  for  the  Prince  of  Macedonia  to  make  known  his 
own  passion  than  to  plead  the  cause  of  another.  Nay, 
you  shall  not  go  till  you  have  divulged  the  love  that  con- 
sumes you.  You  were  ever  thus  modest,  leaving  unsaid 
what  other  and  less  noble  men  make  haste  to  avow,”  she 
concluded,  her  passion  overpowering  her  reason. 

‘Tf  youth  and  thoughts  of  other  things  have  kept  my 
heart  still  till  now  it  beats  at  last  with  greater  passion, 
because  of  the  long  denial,”  he  replied,  lost  to  her  words 
in  thoughts  of  Roxana. 

“Feeling  at  last  its  fierce  throbbings,  will  you  lose  for- 
ever what  you  most  desire,  by  longer  evasion?”  she  an- 
sv/ered  softly,  caressing  his  hand. 

“I  dare  not  now  divulge  my  love,  sweet  Princess,  for 
I may  not  yet  l)rave  tlie  King,  who  will  by  no  means  look 


271 


Cleopatra,  Attalus’  Niece 

with  favor  on  my  suit  at  this  time,”  he  responded,  con- 
juring up  the  obstacles  Philip  would  throw  in  the  way  of 
his  union  with  Roxana. 

“Are  you  the  conqueror  of  Cheronea,  to  permit  the 
King,  however  august,  to  step  between  you  and  your 
heart’s  desire  at  such  a moment?  Fie,  Alexander,  I 
thought  you  great  only  to  find  you  weaker  than  Pau- 
sanias,”  she  cried,  scornfully,  striving  to  spur  him  on  to 
avow  his  passion. 

“I  may  not  now  stand  out  against  the  King’s  will, 
sweet  friend,  but  in  the  end  and  in  my  own  time  will  have 
my  way,”  Alexander  cried,  the  vision  of  Roxana  growing 
more  entrancing  with  every  obstacle  that  intervened. 

“And  waiting  long,  poor  Prince,  gain  at  last  what  an- 
other leaves.  Nay,  you  shall  not  be  put  ofif,  for  I love 
you,  Alexander,  and  were  he  who  opposes  a thousand 
times  the  King  it  would  not  matter.  Do  not  turn  away, 
sweet  Prince,  for,  responding  to  my  determined  will, 
Philip  must  yield.  Speak  but  the  word,  my  love,  and 
his  opposition  will  quickly  give  place  to  kind  indulgence,” 
she  concluded,  throwing  her  arm  about  the  Prince’s  neck 
and  burying  her  face  in  his  bosom. 

Astonished  and  confounded,  Alexander,  overwhelmed 
with  regret  and  shame,  was  for  a long  time  speechless. 
At  last,  regaining  his  voice,  he  cried : 

“Do  not  weep  nor  reproach  yourself,  sweet  Princess, — 
but  kill  me,  for  I deserve  no  less  fate.  See ! Here  is  my 
uncovered  breast  and  here  your  poniard.  No  other  thing 
becomes  my  honor,  for  what  you  ask,  however  idly,  is 
now  impossible,  my  heart  being  pledged  to  another,  as  I 


272 


Iskander 


have  told  you,”  he  concluded,  humiliated  and  stricken  at 
the  unhappy  plight  of  his  fair  companion. 

Hearing  him  through  she  pushed  him  from  her,  pale 
and  distraught,  striving  to  uphold  herself  and  hide  the 
shame  that  burned  her  cheeks.  At  last,  lifting  her  head, 
there  came  into  her  eyes  a look  of  such  despair  and  deadly 
hatred,  that  he  sought  again  to  soothe  her  with  some 
word  of  entreaty  and  self-abasement. 

“Was  it  for  this,  brave  Prince,”  she  cried,  disregard- 
ing what  he  said,  “that  you  led  me  on  so  cunningly,  pre- 
tending a love  you  dared  not  avow?  If  so,  you  have 
achieved  your  end  and  I am  undone,  and  my  shame  re- 
vealed to  the  scorn  of  all  the  world,”  she  went  on,  scarce 
able  to  speak. 

“Not  knowingly  did  I mislead  you,  gracious  Princess, 
but  spoke  in  all  honesty  of  the  love  that  burns  in  my 
heart.  Coming  to  plead  the  cause  of  Pausanias  I knew 
not,  nor  dreamed,  that  you  thought  more  of  me  than  an- 
other,” he  answered,  little  knowing  what  he  said,  so 
great  was  the  regret  and  shame  that  consumed  him. 

“It  matters  little  what  you  thought,”  she  cried,  her 
face  white  with  rage;  “my  shame  is  the  more  apparent 
because  of  it.  But  my  revenge  shall  be  so  great  that  my 
folly  will  be  forgotten  in  its  contemplation;  for,  though 
you  be  the  Prince,  neither  your  rank  nor  the  obscurity  of 
your  Persian  mistress  shall  avail  to  stay  my  hand.  There, 
go!  As  your  wife  I would  have  saved  your  mother’s 
honor  and  U2^held  your  hopes  of  being  King.  Now  I 
will  live  but  to  blast  the  one  and  destroy  the  other.” 

“I  cannot  excuse  myself  nor  forego  your  hate,  nor 
wonder  at  its  fury,  though  the  cause  of  it  shall  remain 


273 


Cleopatra,  Attains’  Niece 

forever  a secret,  unthoiight  of  by  man  or  woman.  But 
let  your  vengeance  pursue  me,  whom  you  alone  have 
cause  to  hate,  nor  waste  itself  on  those  who  have  given 
you  no  cause  of  offense,”  Alexander  cried,  his  anger  ris- 
ing at  the  other’s  tigerish  fury. 

“No!  no!  no!  By  all  the  Gods!”  she  cried.  “Except 
for  this  adventuress  you  would  not  have  thus  rejected 
me,  to  my  undoing;  and  so  my  deadly  hate  shall  pursue 
both  you  and  her  so  long  as  either  of  you  lives  to  shame 
my  sight.” 

“Do  to  me  what  you  will,  but  the  Persian  Princess  is 
the  nation’s  guest,  and  the  person  of  a suppliant  is  not 
more  sacred.  Do  not  transgress  the  laws  of  hospitality 
lest  you  die  a shameful  death  and  the  land  be  accursed 
by  the  Gods,”  Alexander  cried,  and  turning  about  he 
made  his  way  to  the  open  court  where  his  attendants 
awaited  his  coming.  Nor  would  he  have  seen  the  King, 
who  entered  the  enclosure  as  he  mounted  his  horse,  had 
not  Demetrius  plucked  him  by  the  sleeve,  crying  out  as 
he  did  so: 

“The  King!” 

Saluting  him,  Alexander  waited,  but  Philip,  staring  at 
him  blankly,  uttered  not  a word,  save  to  exclaim,  as  he 
entered  the  palace: 

“You  do  well,  oh  Prince,  to  welcome  the  Princess 
Cleopatra  thus  early  and  with  such  show  of  royal  pomp.” 

Returning  to  the  fortress  Alexander  found  Pausanias 
impatiently  awaiting  him  in  the  outer  court.  The  latter, 
observing  the  Prince’s  stern  countenance  and  bowed  head, 
drew  his  sword  and  would  have  fallen  upon  it  had  not 
the  Prince,  seeing  the  motion,  put  it  aside. 


274 


Iskander 


“Return  your  sword  to  its  place,  Pausanias.  Men  do 
not  kill  themselves  save  to  avert  disgrace  or  for  some 
unmerited  sorrow,”  Alexander  cried,  as  he  stayed  the 
other’s  hand. 

“Speak  no  ill  word  of  her,  oh  Prince,  lest  forgetting 
your  sovereign  rank,  I bury  my  sword  in  your  heart  in- 
stead of  my  own,”  Pausanias  answered,  in  a despairing 
voice. 

“Nay,  I said  nothing  in  disparagement  of  the  Princess. 
Go  your  way  and  live,  man,  for  you  have  no  just  cause 
to  kill  yourself,”  Alexander  exclaimed  impatiently. 

“Men  may  not  live,  oh  Prince,  without  food  to  feed 
the  heart  and  some  ray  of  sunshine  to  light  the  way,  and 
I have  neither.” 

“Wounds  like  yours  do  not  kill,  nor  remain  long 
unhealed.  Time  and  occupation  will  cure  the  sore;  or, 
that  failing,  a spear  thrust  or  kindly  blade  in  the  fore- 
front of  battle  will  give  you  release  and  your  memory 
honor.  Nor  need  you  wait  long,  for  the  King’s  service 
offers  such  chances  every  day,”  Alexander  answered  con- 
temptuously. 

“To  Hades  with  the  King  and  all  who  uphold  the 
monster,”  Pausanias  cried  in  rage,  as  he  turned  and  fled 
from  the  fortress. 

Deeply  troubled  and  unable  to  comprehend  much  that 
he  had  heard  and  seen,  Alexander  entered  the  palace,  to 
find  a balm  if  he  might,  for  his  sore  and  mortified  heart, 
in  Roxana’s  sweet  companionship. 

“Whither  in  such  haste,  Iskander?”  a voice  called  to 
him  from  an  alcove,  hidden  by  trailing  vines,  as  he  hur- 
ried forwarii. 


275 


Cleopatra,  Attains’  Niece 

^‘That  I may  be  the  sooner  in  your  company,  sweet 
child,  for  all  the  world  save  you  are  crazy,  or  bent  upon 
some  base  and  ignoble  purpose,'’  he  answered,  entering 
the  recess  and  seating  himself  by  her  side. 

‘‘What  besets  you  that  your  brow  should  be  thus 
clouded  and  your  eyes  so  deeply  troubled,  Iskander?" 
she  responded,  lifting  his  hand  to  her  lips. 

“Naught,  my  love,  that  time  and  your  sweet  com- 
panionship will  not  heal,"  he  answered,  kissing  her  on 
the  cheek. 

“Where  have  you  been,  Iskander?  I thought  surely 
to  see  you  when  the  King  received  the  embassy,  scarce 
a half  hour  ago.  Every  one  was  there  save  you,  and  you 
only  would  I have  missed.  You  must  not  be  away  so 
long  again,  sweet  love;  for  when  you  are  not  near  me 
I have  such  sinking  of  the  heart,  such  forebodings  and 
fear  of  the  future,  that  my  eyes  are  dim  with  the  tears 
I cannot  repress,  nor  give  a reason  why  they  flow." 

“You  have  no  cause  to  fear,  sweet  love,  nor  am  I ever 
willingly  absent  from  your  side.  For  when  I am  away  it 
is  to  wish  I were  near  you ; and  being  there,  to  wish  again 
that  I might  never  leave  your  side.  Oh,  I am  filled  with 
such  longing  for  your  presence  when  absent  that  I would 
gladly  give  up  all  I have  before  most  prized,  that  I might 
spend  every  moment  of  my  life  in  your  sweet  company," 
he  answered,  clasping  her  in  his  arms  and  kissing  her 
hair  and  neck  in  his  mad  passion. 

“I  knew  some  business  kept  you,  but  oh,  the  happiness 
of  being  near  you  and  the  fear  of  losing  you  in  this  wild 
country,  make  me  jealous  of  every  moment  that  you  are 
absent.  But  I will  no  longer  give  voice  to  my  unhappy 


276 


Iskander 


fears,  Iskander,  lest  you  tire  of  me.  Come,  sweet  love,’’ 
she  went  on,  striving  to  speak  more  cheerfully,  ‘‘what 
business  kept  you  from  my  side?” 

“The  King’s  coming  and  the  welcome  I owed  him 
filled  the  morning  hour.  Afterwards  a friendly  mission 
took  me  into  the  city,  and  most  unhappily,  as  it  turned 
out.  But  tell  me,  sweet  love,  did  the  King  receive  you 
with  all  kindness?” 

“Yes,  and  in  such  regal  state  that  I could  scarce  find 
my  voice  when  he  spoke  to  me.  Surely  more  kingly  man 
never  sat  upon  a throne,  Iskander.  There  is  such  dig- 
nity and  graciousness,  such  sense  of  strength  and  power, 
in  all  he  does  and  says  that  no  one  can  look  upon  him 
unmoved.  Nay,  I had  almost  said  without  fear,”  .she 
answered,  her  face  lighting  up  at  the  recollection.  “And 
except  that  matters  of  state  prevent  his  giving  the  subject 
of  my  father’s  mission  present  attention,  his  gracious 
reception  of  the  embassy  was  all  that  could  have  been  de- 
sired by  the  most  exacting.” 

“Did  he  single  you  out,  sweet  love,  tO'  pay  you  some 
particular  attention?”  Alexander  asked  with  pleasurable 
anxiety. 

“Yes,  and  most  marked,  my  love.  For  once  I was 
presented  he  kept  me  by  his  side  and,  as  opportunity 
offered,  took  occasion  to  say  the  most  kind  and  courteous 
things  of  my  father  and  his  mission.  So  that  I came 
away  feeling  I had  achieved  a triumph  in  being  so  highly 
honored  by  so  great  a King.” 

Nor  did  Alexander  say  aught  to  dispel  the  pleasant 
illusion,  albeit  the  deep  and  subtle  character  of  Philip 
prevented  him  attaching  any  importance  to  his  kindly 


277 


Cleopatra,  Attalus’  Niece 

action  or  favoring  speech,  save  as  it  might  serve  some 
purpose  of  the  state. 

“I  am  glad  that  the  greatness  of  the  King,  for  he  is 
truly  great,  is  honored  by  your  sweet  confidence,  my 
love.  But  come,  tell  me  something  of  yourself.  Do 
Ossa  and  the  guard  I have  placed  about  your  quarters  tire 
or  incommode  you  in  any  way?  And  the  pages  set  apart 
to  attend  you,  do  they,  too,  fill  your  expectations?” 

“Yes,  and  I would  not  have  a thing  different  from  what 
you  have  arranged,  love.  Ossa,  never  obtruding,  has  yet 
such  tact  and  circumspection  that,  unseen,  I have  but  to 
raise  my  voice  and  he  responds.  Or,  if  it  is  a page  I 
desire,  they  know  my  wish  ere  I call.  I would  that  I 
could  always  have  Ossa,  Iskander,  for  when  he  is  near 
I feel  such  certainty  and  security  of  person  that  the  new- 
ness and  strangeness  of  everything  loses  half  its  terrors,” 
Roxana  answered,  with  loving  confidence. 

“He  shall  be  near  you,  sweet  love,  and  his  gentle  wife 
whom  he  has  reclaimed  from  bondage.  That  is  tO'  be 
their  life  as  I have  fixed  it,  and  as  they  agree,  thinking 
it  honorable  above  all  other  gifts  I could  bestow.  Let 
him  be  as  your  shadow,  Roxana,  for  it  will  be  to  him 
an  office  of  love.  Go  not  abroad,  even  so  far  as  the 
battlements  of  the  fortress,  without  his  presence.  If  he 
be  always  armed  it  is  a thing  made  necessary,  for  our 
people,  not  always  respecting  the  laws  of  hospitality  as 
the  Gods  command,  may  seek  to  do  you  harm.  Because  of 
this  I beg  of  you,  sweet  child,  do  as  I say  and  trust  not 
yourself  abroad  unattended,”  Alexander  exclaimed  with 
impassioned  speech,  thinking  of  Cleopatra’s  threat. 

“No!  Nor  will  I feel  it  irksome  to  be  thus  strangely 


278 


Iskander 


guarded,  or  think  you  over  careful,”  she  answered,  pull- 
ing his  face  to  her  and  kissing  him. 

“It  is  not  thought  strange  to  go  thus  attended,  sweet 
love,  since  the  King’s  conquests  have  filled  Macedonia 
with  discontented  slaves  and  half  savage  barbarians  from 
the  countries  that  lie  about  us.  But  most,  I fear  the  in- 
trigues and  jealous  hatred  of  those  about  the  court. 
Guard  yourself  from  these  hidden  foes,  for  here  Ossa’s 
strong  arm  cannot  save  you.” 

“You  speak  always  of  me,  Iskander.  But  you  are  not 
more  safe  than  I,  although  among  your  own  people.  Late- 
ly I have  seen  Mithrines  and  Amyntas  much  together  and 
often  in  secret  conference,  as  if  hatching  a plot.  If  you 
in  your  fear  set  apart  a guard  for  me,  haste  to  take  one  for 
yourself,  for  Mithrines  will  by  no  means  go  back  to 
Persia  without  making  some  attempt  against  you;  and 
what  more  pliant  tool  could  he  seek  than  Amyntas,  who 
hates  you  and  aspires  to  the  throne,  though  you  trust 
him  as  if  he  had  no  cause  of  complaint  against  your 
house.  Oh,  Iskander,  when  my  sweet  pages  recount  to 
me  the  stories  of  princes  and  kings  of  Macedonia  en- 
trapped and  foully  murdered,  my  heart  stops  its  beating 
in  fear  for  you.” 

“If  I seem  to  trust  those  about  me  who  have  just  cause 
of  grievance,  sweet  love,  it  is  with  the  hope  of  winning 
them  to  the  state  and  without  lessening  the  vigilance  that 
no  Prince  of  Macedonia  can  disregard  with  safety  tO'  his 
country  or  his  own  person,”  Alexander  answered  confi- 
dently. 

“The  danger  ever  comes  when  least  expected,  for  such 
is  the  history  of  Macedonia.  If  you  have  lived  thus  far 


279 


Cleopatra,  Attalus’  Niece 

unmolested,  it  is  because  the  people  love  you,  and  fear 
has  restrained  the  hands  of  those  who  would  be  benefited 
by  your  death.  Quit  your  careless  security,  Iskander, 
while  you  may,”  she  pleaded,  as  if  clearly  foreseeing  the 
tragedies  that  loomed  like  a thunder  cloud  about  his 
kingly  house. 

“My  love  for  you  and  the  fear  that  I may  lose  you,  I 
know  not  how,  has  so  changed  my  nature  that  I no 
longer  know  myself,  sweet  Princess.  And  already  on 
my  way  here,  as  if  affrighted,  I have  planned  to  surround 
myself  with  such  steadfast  friends  that  neither  treason 
nor  private  enmity  can  find  an  opening.  Now,  that  at- 
tended to,  my  whole  thought  is  of  you,  and  the  tender 
love  I bear  you,”  Alexander  answered,  putting  his  arm 
about  her  as  if  only  thus  could  he  guard  her  from  the 
enmity  of  Cleopatra. 


CHAPTER  XXL 


THE  DECEIVED  KING. 

Amyntas,  ever  on  the  watch,  being  quickly  apprised  of 
the  great  state  in  which  Alexander  had  left  the  fortress, 
mounted  a horse  and  followed  after,  to  learn  the  object 
of  his  strange  visit.  Reaching  the  palace  of  Attains,  he 
dismounted  and,  privileged  by  his  kingly  rank,  followed 
to  the  great  room  in  which  the  Prince  had  been  received 
by  Cleopatra.  And  this  without  being  observed  by  the 
attendants,  as  the  Princess  had  purposely  sent  them  away, 
desiring  the  interview  to  be  private.  Reaching  the  en- 
trance Amyntas  stood  still,  concealed  behind  the  heavy 
curtains,  undetermined  whether  to  go  forward  or  remain 
where  he  was.  While  thus  hesitating  the  voices  of  those 
within  clearly  reaching  his  ears,  he  determined  to  remain 
and  listen.  Thus,  securely  hidden  and  unsuspecting  the 
nature  of  Alexander’s  visit,  he  heard  Cleopatra’s  pas- 
sionate avowal.  Thunderstruck,  he  stood  still,  wonder- 
ing at  its  strangeness  and  pondering  on  the  use  he  might 
make  of  it.  And  presently,  Alexander  taking  his  de- 
parture, he  hurriedly  entered  the  Princess’  apartment,  and 
throwing  himself  on  his  knees  before  her,  caught  her 
hand  and  kissing  it  with  deep  show  of  reverence,  ex- 
claimed ; 

“Coming  unannounced  to  greet  you,  oh  Queen,  I heard, 
in  spite  of  my  great  reluctance,  the  Prince’s  mad  declara- 
tion of  love  and  your  imperious  refusal  of  his  shameful 

(280) 


281 


The  Deceived  King 

proposal.  Had  he  been  less  exalted  in  rank  I should  have 
rushed  forward  and  cut  him  down,  but  as  it  was  I stood 
dumfounded  and  helpless,”  he  concluded  in  a passion, 
as  if  overwhelmed  by  his  anger. 

“You  heard  his  declaration?  You!”  she  cried,  starting 
back  frightened  and  bewildered. 

“Most  plainly,  oh  Queen,  so  that  I could  scarce  re- 
strain myself,  as  I say.  Hearing  your  words  of  censure 
and  scorn  I waited  somewhat  appeased.  Now  he  has 
gone,  to  my  shame  I hasten  to  protest  against  the  great 
indignity,  knowing  you  to  be  pledged  to  the  King,”  he 
answered  with  servile  humility. 

“Refusing  him,  if  he  be  not  base  beyond  our  conception 
of  common  men,  that  will  end  his  importunities,”  she  an- 
swered, regaining  her  composure  in  some  measure. 

“Nay,  it  will  but  urge  him  on,  oh  Queen,  to  greater 
indignities.  Such  is  his  nature,  as  every  one  knows.  Nor 
will  he  take  refusal  once  he  has  made  up  his  mind,” 
Amyntas  answered  with  assured  voice. 

“What  can  I do,  noble  Prince,  a weak  and  timid 
woman?  Surely  I may  trust  myself  to  your  honor  and 
greater  wisdom,”  she  exclaimed  beseechingly,  laying  her 
hand  on  his  arm. 

“If  you  would  put  a stop  forever  to  this  suit  so  com- 
promising to  your  honor,  you  must  lose  no  time  in  en- 
listing the  aid  of  the  King.  If  he  be  told  of  Alexander’s 
striving  for  your  love,  it  will  instantly  destroy  all  affec- 
tion he  may  have  for  his  son.  In  its  place  deadly  hatred 
will  fill  his  heart  and  mind,  and  thus  you  will  be  free 
and,  secure  in  power,  may  reign  as  Queen  undisturbed,” 
Amyntas  answered  with  eager  confidence. 


282 


Iskander 


“No!  great  Prince.  The  King  would  never  believe 
Alexander  could  be  so  base;  so  treacherous  as  a son  and 
subject.” 

“He  must  believe  it  if  you  aver  it  to  be  true,  oh  Queen. 
Besides,  did  I not  hear  the  avowal?  Nay,  every  word 
that  was  said?”  Amyntas  concluded,  eying  the  Princess 
with  questioning  glance. 

Understanding  all  too  clearly  the  othei‘’s  covert  mean- 
ing Cleopatra,  deeply  disturbed,  trembled  and  turned  pale 
But  quickly  recovering  herself  she  answered  with  firm 
assurance : 

“Yes,  ’tis  true;  the  King  will  not  doubt  my  word!  No! 
Not  if  I condemned  half  the  court,  so  great  is  his  pas- 
sion. Occasion,  moreover,  may  arise  by  which  you  may 
confirm  it,  noble  Prince,  if  he  questions  you,”  she  an- 
swered adroitly. 

“I  will,  with  such  definiteness  and  persistency  that  he 
will  thank  me  while  he  curses  the  Prince  for  his  base 
treason.” 

“Be  circumspect  in  what  you  say,  and  let  it  be  rather 
by  reflection  than  frank  disclosure,  lest  an  open  rupture 
be  untimely  precipitated,”  Cleopatra  answered,  restrain- 
ing him  with  voice  and  gesture. 

“I  will  be  governed  in  everything  by  your  greater  wis- 
dom, oh  Queen.  Aggrieved  and  insulted  it  is  for  you  to 
indicate  the  nature  and  measure  of  Alexander’s  punish- 
ment,” Amyntas  humbly  replied. 

“Thanks,  noble  Prince,  I will  not  fail  to  remember  and 
treasure  your  kindness  when  I am  Queen.  There,  go,  my 
good  friend.  I hear  the  trumpet  announcing  the  King’s 
coming,”  she  exclaimed,  offering  her  hand  to  Amyntas 
to  kiss. 


283 


The  Deceived  King 

Taking  his  departure  by  one  of  the  interior  doors  of  the 
spacious  chamber,  the  opening  had  scarce  closed  behind 
him  when  an  attendant,  throwing  wide  the  curtains  which 
hid  the  main  entrance,  cried : 

“The  King !” 

Hurrying  forward,  little  regardful  of  his  regal  dignity, 
Philip  stopped  short,  astonished  and  perplexed  at  what  he 
saw.  For  Cleopatra  hastened  not  to  receive  him  as  he 
had  thought,  but  lay  outstretched  in  abandonment  upon 
the  floor,  her  form  trembling  with  suppressed  emotion. 
Making  no  movement  to  rise  or  greet  him,  the  King, 
after  a moment’s  hesitation  and  doubt,  hastened  to  her 
side  and  lifted  her  up.  Feeling  his  arms  about  her  she 
cried  with  passionate  energy: 

“Have  you  come  back,  oh  Prince,  to  torture  me  further 
with  your  cruel  avowal  of  love?’’ 

“Look  up,  Cleopatra!  It  is  I,  Philip,  the  King,  my 
sweet  Queen,  who  comes  to  embrace  and  greet  you,’’  he 
cried  bewildered. 

Hearing  him  she  started  up  with  a wild  cry,  tearing 
herself  from  his  arms  as  if  his  touch  poisoned  her.  Thus 
she  stood  with  uplifted  head  and  flushed  face  confront- 
ing him,  but  presently  stilling  her  passion,  she  approached 
him  and  putting  her  arms  fondly  about  his  neck,  cried  as 
if  stricken  with  grief  and  shame: 

“I  am  debased  and  polluted,  gracious  King,  and  no 
longer  worthy  of  your  love  or  confidence,  so  great  is  my 
humiliation  and  despair,”  and  releasing  him  she  held 
down  her  head  in  abject  shame. 

“Polluted ! Debased ! My  Queen,  what  mean  you  by 
such  speech?  Scarce  waiting  to  refresh  myself  I hurry 


284 


I skander 


to  your  side  in  fond  expectation,  and  coming  find  you 
thus,'’  he  cried,  regarding  her  with  a look  of  astonish- 
ment, in  which  his  deep  passion  was  clearly  apparent. 

^'Why  did  you  delay  at  all,  oh  King?  Now  you  come 
all  too  late  to  save  me  the  foul  shame  that  has  been  put 
upon  me  by  your  princely  son.” 

‘‘Alexander?  Nay;  he  came  to  greet  you  as  a friend, 
not  to  cast  shame  upon  you,”  the  King  answered,  unable 
to  comprehend  her  meaning. 

“So  he  may  have  told  you,  gracious  King,  and  you 
being  all  honor  and  loyalty  believed  him,  but  far  differ- 
ent was  the  purpose  of  his  cruel  errand,”  she  answered, 
allowing  her  face  to  rest  beside  his  in  soft  embrace,  as  he 
bent  over  her. 

“What  other  purpose  could  he  have  had  unless  it  was 
to  chide  you  for  the  love  we  bear  each  other?  But  of 
that  I thought  he,  of  all  the  world,  was  ignorant,”  the 
King  answered  with  lowering  brow.  “Come,  my  Queen, 
tell  me  his  mission  here,  if  that  it  was  that  distresses 
you.” 

“I  dare  not,  gracious  King,  lest  in  your  anger  you  kill 
him,”  she  answered,  feigning  fear. 

“Kill  him!  What  do  you  mean?  For  I know  not  what 
to  think  or  say,  so  greatly  am  I disturbed  and  confused,” 
the  King  answered  with  fixed  look  and  lowering  brow. 

“I  would  leave  you,  too,  in  happy  ignorance,  Philip, 
lest  the  love  you  have  borne  the  Prince  be  turned  to  hate 
and  deadly  murder,”  she  answered  with  hesitating  voice, 
stroking  his  face  with  her  soft  hand. 

“Torture  me  no  longer,  sweet  Princess.  Tell  me  his 
offense,  and  quickly.  Of  its  punishment  I must  be  the 


The  Deceived  King  285 

judge,”  the  King  cried,  his  face  purple  with  rage  and 
dismay. 

“Spare  me  the  anguish  of  telling  it,  oh  King,  for  I dare 
not  speak,”  she  answered,  clasping  him  about  the  neck 
beseechingly. 

“Speak,  I command  you ! Naught  that  concerns  her  I 
am  so  soon  to  wed,  my  Queen,  can  be  hidden  from  me.” 

“If  I obey  it  is  because  I can  deny  you  nothing,  Philip. 
Not  though  my  heart  be  wrung  with  regret  and  anguish. 
But  of  the  telling,  oh  King,  naught  shall  be  divulged  lest 
I kill  myself  for  shame,”  she  answered,  imploring  him 
with  uplifted  hands. 

“Go  on,  Cleopatra!  Try  not  my  patience  longer,”  the 
King  exclaimed,  holding  her  at  arm’s  length. 

“When  the  Prince  came,  if  you  command  me  to  obey 
you,  cruel  King,  I received  him  kindly,  overjoyed  at  his 
quick  coming  and  the  friendship  it  evinced ; but  straight- 
way losing  all  interest  in  my  inquiries  concerning  you  and 
the  campaign  in  Greece,  he  said  you  were  greatly  broken 
by  wine  and  numberless  crimes  against  women  and  so 
must  soon  die,  or  living,  the  burdens  of  the  state  must 
rest  on  younger  shoulders.  Thus  he  would  be  king  in 
name  or  in  fact  within  the  year.  But,  oh  Philip,  I can- 
not, I cannot  tell  you  all  he  said,”  she  cried,  burying  her 
face  in  his  bosom. 

“Go  on,  I command  you,”  he  answered,  putting  his  arm 
about  her.  “Not  a word  shall  you  omit.” 

“When  I would  have  protested  that  you  were  still 
young  and  might  look  forward  to  thirty  years  of  kingly 
life,  he  would  not  let  me  speak,”  she  went  on  with  seem- 
ing reluctance.  “Softly  insinuating  that  some  grievous 


286 


Iskander 


and  secret  ailment,  of  which  I was  ignorant,  forbade  to 
you  a great  stretch  of  life,  he  asked  that  I cast  you  off, 
Philip,  and  wed  him  instead.  Enraged  at  his  baseness, 
I bade  him  leave  me,  but  growing  violent  at  my  refusal 
he  threatened  me  with  disgrace  and  death  if  I stood  out 
against  him.  At  last,  when  I had  twice  refused  him  with 
bitter  reproaches,  he  caught  me  about  the  waist  in  a mad 
frenzy  of  passion,  such  as  is  peculiar  to  his  mother, 
Olympias,  and  cast  me  down  at  his  feet  as  you  found  me,” 
she  concluded,  wringing  her  hands  as  if  forced  by  the 
King’s  will  to  be  thus  particular. 

“By  the  Gods,  can  I have  been  dreaming  all  this  while! 
The  base  wretch  shall  answer  for  his  treachery  and  dis- 
loyalty with  his  life,”  the  King  cried  in  a choked  voice. 

“Be  not  too  hasty  in  judging  him,  Philip.  He  is  ac- 
customed to  indulgences  at  your  hands,  and  this  is  but 
the  sequence  to  what  has  gone  before.  Nor  does  he  think 
it  out  of  place,  believing  he  will  soon  reign  in  your  stead,” 
she  answered,  covering  her  face  as  if  overcome. 

“He  reign!  No;  by  the  Gods  no!  He  deserves  death 
rather,  or  banishment,  if  mercy  may  be  accorded  him.  To 
be  king  within  the  year!  ’Tis  a plot,  Cleopatra,  hatched 
by  his  tigress  mother,  and  a sword  thrust  is  all  that  is 
necessary  to  leave  the  throne  empty,  as  he  says,”  the  King 
exclaimed,  purple  with  rage. 

“Passion  is  not  natural  to  you  in  such  a thing,  gracious 
King,”  she  answered,  seemingly  frightened.  “Be  not  too 
hasty  in  what  you  say  or  do,  lest  the  army  that  adores 
him,  as  if  he  were  its  child,  be  led  astray,  and  so  condemn 
your  action  and  those  who  love  you.” 

“It  will  not!  It  dare  not!  It  is  my  creature.  Unkempt 


287 


The  Deceived  King 

slingers  and  half-clad  bowmen,  armed  with  wicker  shields 
and  charred  pikes,  I made  it  what  it  is;  and  it  will  obey 
me  in  all  things  as  will  every  one,  however  exalted  their 
rank,”  the  King  answered  with  angry  vehemence. 

“The  vanity  and  ambition  of  the  Prince  will  lead  him 
to  think  differently,  Philip,  but  I being  by  your  side  may 
guard  your  bed  and  so  preserve  you  from  the  treason  that 
threatens  the  throne;  for  I tremble  at  your  return  to 
Pella,  oh  King,  lest  some  snare  be  already  laid  to  bring 
about  your  death,”  she  exclaimed,  clinging  to  him  as  if 
crazed  with  apprehension. 

“Fear  not,  my  Queen.  Our  marriage,  too  long  put  off, 
shall  be  consummated  ere  the  day  closes.  It  were  better 
thus  than  with  noisy  ceremony,  amid  the  clang  of  trum- 
pets and  gaping  crowds  and  the  chattering  gossips  of  the 
Court.  That  done,  all  discussion  will  cease.  Your  gra- 
cious presence,  once  my  Queen,  will  stay  the  steps  of  the 
wavering  if  any  such  there  be.  Oh  Alexander !”  the  King 
went  on  with  sorrowing  voice,  “You  whom  I have  loved, 
to  betray  me  in  so  base  and  cowardly  a manner.  Fool 
that  I was  to  trust  him,  when  like  folly  has  cost  so  many 
kings  of  Macedonia  their  lives  and  thrones.  But  I will 
find  a way  to  curb  his  over-weening  ambition,  and  in  the 
end  one  more  worthy  shall  follow  me  on  the  throne,”  the 
King  concluded,  raising  his  hand  aloft. 

“If  he  be  false,  not  all  your  children  are  tainted  with 
treason,  Philip.  Or  it  may  be,  gracious  King,  that  from 
our  union,  respondent  to  our  fervent  desire,  a prince  may 
be  born  worthy  to  succeed  you  on  the  throne,”  she  ex- 
claimed with  eager  fondness. 

“Antipater  has  been  deceived  not  less  than  I,”  the  King 


288 


Iskander 


went  on  musingly,  “for  he  told  me  scarce  an  hour  ago 
that  Alexander  was  enamored  of  the  Persian  Princess, 
having  no  thought  but  of  her  nor  any  desire  save  to  be 
in  her  presence.” 

“It  is  but  a ruse,  Philip,  to  mislead  you  and  those  you 
trust;  or  if  there  be  truth  in  the  story  he  would  have  a 
plurality  of  wives,  as  his  kingly  fathers  have  had  before 
him.  But  come,  Philip,”  she  went  on,  encircling  him 
with  both  her  arms,  “let  us  dismiss  this  most  unhappy 
subject  and  enjoy  the  sweet  hour  while  we  may.  I have 
lived  only  in  its  expectation  since  last  my  heart  was 
stirred  by  your  gracious  presence,  and  now  it  is  disturbed 
by  the  intrigues  of  those  who  should  love  and  shield  you. 
Come,  my  adored,  you  have  told  me  naught  of  the  com- 
ing banquet  about  which  every  one  is  already  talking, — 
no,  nor  asked  me  to  view  it  with  the  others,”  she  an- 
swered, kissing  him. 

“It  was  this  and  your  sweet  presence  that  brought  me 
here,”  he  answered,  caressing  her.  “Amyntas,  who  loves 
such  things,  has  it  in  charge;  and  that  the  women  may 
have  every  freedom  he  has  planned  that  they  shall  come 
in  masks,  if  they  will,  and  so  view  the  spectacle  from  the 
surrounding  balcony.” 

“Will  those  about  the  court  come  thus  disguised?  And 
the  Persian  woman?”  she  asked  anxiously. 

“Yes,  and  most  surprising,  the  gracious  Roxana,  to  do 
greater  honor  to  the  festival,  will  come  robed  and  masked 
as  the  Persian  queen.  But  this  in  confidence,  as  she  does 
not  wish  her  identity  disclosed,”  the  King  went  on,  his 
anger  forgotten.  “I  will  not  ask  your  disguise,  sweet 
Princess,  being  sure  that  naught  can  long  hide  your  lovely 


289 


The  Deceived  King 

form  from  my  expectant  eyes.  But  come,  let  us  go  seek 
the  princely  Attains,  for  know,  most  persecuted  of  prin- 
cesses, I will  not  leave  the  palace  until  you  have  become 
my  queen,  and  so  are  safe  from  future  indignities,”  and 
overpowered  by  his  passion,  he  kissed  her  on  her  open 
bosom,  as  he  put  his  arm  about  her  and  led  her  away. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 


THE  CONSPIRACY. 

“Why  this  turmoil,  this  rearrangement,  these  hurried 
decorations,  exalted  Prince?”  Mithrines  cried,  accosting 
Amyntas,  who  stood  in  the  center  of  the  great  court, 
watching  the  slaves  placing  furniture  and  fixing  plants 
and  flowers  about  the  wide  enclosure. 

“It  is  in  preparation  for  the  banquet  which  the  King 
gives  tonight,”  the  other  answered  laconically. 

“Tonight?”  Mithrines  exclaimed,  feigning  surprise. 
“Yes.” 

“Why,  he  has  but  this  moment  returned.” 

“ ’Tis  his  way,  and  that  he  may  pay  greater  honor  to 
your  embassy,  he  avers,”  Amyntas  answered  with  a 
shrug  of  his  shoulders.  “Others  say  it  has  another  object 
and  one  he  esteems  far  more  important.” 

“What  is  the  secret  he  conceals  under  this  haste  to 
show  hospitality  to  the  Persian  envoys?” 

“To  proclaim  his  marriage  with  Cleopatra.  ’Tis  a 
thing  he  may  the  more  boldly  tell  being  drunk,  for  in 
such  state  he  will  have  less  fear  of  Alexander’s  anger, 
which  the  announcement  is  sure  to  excite.” 

“Alexander’s  anger!”  Mithrines  answered  contemptu- 
ously. “A  love-sick  fool,  with  eyes  and  ears  only  for 
Roxana,  living  and  dreaming  in  a world  apart.  What 
manner  of  prince  is  this  about  whom  such  brave  stories 

(290) 


291 


The  Conspiracy 

are  told,  Amyntas?  I would  my  master’s  enemies  were 
all  like  him.  We  would  quickly  seat  you  on  the  throne 
and  there  would  be  an  end  to  his  fears,  and  I might  re- 
turn to  Sardis  and  the  life  of  civilized  men.” 

“You  had  better  have  stayed  at  home,  oh  friend,  if 
coming  here  you  read  Alexander  no  better,”  Amyntas 
answered  dryly. 

“How  else  can  I read  him?  He  has  no  mind  for  af- 
fairs and  lives  only  in  his  mistress’  voice  or  sits  spell- 
bound gazing  into  her  eyes.  I thought  him  a man  of  en- 
terprise ere  reaching  Greece.  But  he  has  no  ambition, 
no  fire,  and  his  temper  is  of  such  softness  that  it  were 
an  offense  against  good  manners  to  bait  him,”  Mithrines 
responded  with  a laugh  of  disdain. 

“You  mistake  the  spell  he  is  under  for  the  man,  for  he 
is  nothing  if  not  fire,  Mithrines.  Not  hidden  and  smoul- 
dering as  with  Philip,  but  striking  and  vivid  like  the 
forked  lightning.  The  King’s  purposes  are  ever  con- 
cealed, and  he  could  not  be  open  if  he  would.  A fox 
playing  among  the  young  pigs  is  Philip’s  natural  self. 
But  Alexander  knows  not  what  dissimulation  is,  and 
when  aroused  has  neither  thought  nor  moderation,  but 
like  a fierce  tempest  uproots  and  crushes  all  who  with- 
stand him.  This  savage  spirit  comes  from  his  barbarian 
mother  and  brooks  no  opposition  save  from  friends,  and 
then  only  within  the  limits  of  his  princely  dignity.  A 
dozen  Philips  were  less  dangerous  to  Persian  greatness, 
oh  Lydian,  than  one  Alexander  aroused  to  action,”  Amyn- 
tas answered,  sobered  at  the  thought  of  the  Prince’s  fierce 
nature. 

“Exaggerated  greatness!  A harmless  lamb  masquer- 


292 


Iskander 


ading  as  a lion.  It  is  with  Philip  we  nave  to  deal,  and 
he  out  of  the  way  we  may  do  with  the  other  what  we 
will.” 

“Philip  removed  and  Alexander  left,  you  will  have 
gained  nothing.  Once  he  is  King  his  father’s  contem- 
plated conquests  will  seem  trifling  things  to  what  he  will 
achieve,”  Amyntas  answered  confidently.  “No,  they 
must  die  together,  oh  Persian,  and  tonight’s  banquet  will 
afford  the  opportunity  we  have  sought.  Alexander  will 
not  sit  still  and  see  his  mother  disgraced,  and  in  the  tur- 
moil that  will  ensue  both  the  bear  and  the  cub  may  be 
skinned,”  Amyntas  concluded,  as  if  speaking  of  a thing 
already  accomplished. 

“Philip  and  Alexander  are  more  like  lovers  than  King 
and  subject.  This  every  one  avers  and  the  Prince  has 
such  esteem  for  his  father,  and  what  he  calls  Philip’s 
greatness,  that  it  will  be  no  easy  task  to  array  one  against 
the  other.” 

“Such  a slight  will  be  put  upon  him  tonight  that  were 
he  of  craven  heart  he  could  not  be  quiet  under  it.” 

“Who  will  do  this  and  hope  to  live?  Not  even  the  King 
would  dare  brave  his  chivalrous  son  thus  openly,  though 
Alexander’s  loyalty  is  said  to  be  such  that  he  would  not 
harm  him  were  he  to  lose  the  throne  thereby,”  Mithrines 
answered,  seeking  to  excite  Amyntas’  jealousy  of  Alex- 
ander. 

“Attains,  who  hopes  to  benefit  by  the  quarrel,  as  he 
does  by  the  marriage  of  his  niece,  will  be  the  instrument, 
and  while  he  thinks  only  to  destroy  Alexander,  the  King, 
too,  shall  fall,”  Amyntas  replied  decisively. 

“By  what  cunningly  devised  plan  do  you  hope  to 


293 


The  Conspiracy 

achieve  things  so  fraught  with  advantage  to  you,  and  so 
fatal  to  all  concerned  if  the  conspiracy  should  unhappily 
miscarry  ? Though  I have  loaded  your  friends  with  gold 
and  clothed  them  in  princely  raiment,  yet  they  will  not 
risk  their  lives  to  further  your  ends;  and  should  the  plot 
fail,  tomorrow’s  sun  will  not  find  one  head  upon  the 
shoulders  of  those  who  are  concerned  in  the  dangerous 
project,”  Mithrines  answered  doubtingly,  to  test  the  oth- 
er’s resolution. 

“One  were  but  a sorry  conspirator,  Mithrines,  whose 
safety  depended  upon  his  plots  succeeding,  for  such  things 
are  a lottery,  as  you  Persians  know  better  than  other  men. 
Four  times  you  attempted  Alexander’s  life  ere  reaching 
Pella,  and  failing  each  time  was  yet  able  tO’  avert  sus- 
picion from  yourself.” 

“I  am  not  sure  of  that,  good  friend.  Alexander  is 
such  believer  in  the  Gods  and  their  regard  for  strangers 
that,  though  he  knew  I conspired,  yet  would  he  not  for 
such  act  harm  me  while  I remained  in  Macedonia,”  Mith- 
rines answered,  as  if  he  admired  the  Prince. 

“May  his  Gods  in  like  manner  protect  him  when  the 
naked  sword  opens  his  throat,”  Amyntas  answered  sav- 
agely. “Go  your  way,  good  friend.  It  were  not  best  we 
be  seen  too  much  together.  But  be  not  tardy  at  the  ban- 
quet, and  if  by  chance  it  end  in  darkness  you  may  still 
see  my  weapon  open  a way  to  the  throne  of  which  I have 
been  robbed.” 

“The  Prince  is  not  the  kind  of  q,  man  to  stand  like  a 
Theban  pig  till  his  enemy  pricks  him,  nor  will  he  wallow 
in  wine  like  his  father  and  so  become  an  easy  prey.  I 
greatly  fear  the  outcome  of  your  project,  good  friend. 


294 


Iskander 


They  told  me  ere  I came  that  you  were  cautious  to 
timidity,  oh  Prince,  and  so  explained  your  absence  from 
the  throne.  Nay,  your  enemies  said  you  better  became  the 
peaceful  avocation  of  the  shepherd  than  the  kingship  of  a 
war-like  people.  I thought  to  drill  you  like  a half-hearted 
mercenary  in  the  struggle  to  overthrow  Philip ; but  com- 
ing, find  you  more  forward  than  discreet.” 

“Hush!”  Amyntas  angrily  interposed,  “till  I put  some 
heart  in  this  craven  wretch  who  would  possess  the  peer- 
less Cleopatra,  but  dare  not  strike  a blow  to  win  her,” 
Amyntas  went  on,  saluting  Pausanias  as  the  latter  ap- 
proached. “What!”  he  cried,  as  the  other  sought  to  pass 
on  unmindful  of  his  presence,  “is  all  hope  dead,  noble 
friend,  that  you  carry  yourself  so  gloomily  amid  the  cheer- 
ful preparations  for  the  marriage-feast?  I thought  you 
more  worthy  of  woman’s  love!” 

“Cease,  Amyntas,  for  I am  in  no  mood  to  listen  to  your 
raillery,”  Pausanias  answered,  without  lifting  his  head. 

“Call  you  the  distress  of  those  who  offer  you  loving 
service,  raillery?  Fie!  It  were  idle  to  aid  such  a man. 
You  walk  as  one  already  dead  when  tonight,  if  you  had 
the  heart,  you  might  remove  the  obstacle  in  your  path 
and  so  win  the  woman  you  love.” 

“It  were  a needless  labor.  She  no  longer  regards  me 
with  favor,  and  to  pursue  her  further  is  to  play  the  part 
of  coward,”  Pausanias  answered,  as  if  having  no  heart  in 
the  matter. 

“Well,  go  your  way.  Friendship  is  wasted  on  one  so 
easily  the  dupe  of  those  concerned  in  misleading  him. 
Adieu ! You  are  unworthy  the  fair  being  you  relinquish. 
Led  garlanded,  like  a patient  brute  to  the  sacrificial  altar. 


295 


The  Conspiracy 

she  will  pine  and  die,  while  you  live  to  grow  old  and  fat 
on  the  recollection,”  and  Amyntas  turned  away  as  if  too 
angry  to  discuss  the  matter  further. 

“You  do  me  wrong,  oh  friend,  for  I have  heard  within 
the  hour  that  she  no  longer  loves  me  and  is  content  to 
wed  the  King.” 

“What  subservient  slave  of  Philip  has  gone  out  of  his 
way  to  thus  mislead  you  with  so  foul  a lie?”  Amyntas 
asked,  facing  the  other  as  if  surprised. 

“The  Prince,  if  you  would  know.” 

“Alexander?” 

“Yes,  Alexander.  He  went  purposely  to  the  palace  of 
Attalus  to  plead  my  cause,  but  all  in  vain,”  Pausanias  an- 
swered with  a doleful  sigh. 

“Fie,  Pausanias ! Do  you  believe  the  silly  story,  made 
up  to  further  his  own  designs?”  Amyntas  asked  deri- 
sively. 

“Yes,  for  he  has  every  reason  to  favor  me,  being  my 
friend  and  averse  to  the  King’s  suit.” 

“Love  knows  no  friendship,  oh  Pausanias.  If  the  sun 
but  come  between  the  enamored  swain  and  his  adored  it 
is  accursed.  Vain,  weak  man!  You  are  ever  the  dupe 
of  those  you  trust,  for  Alexander  knows  nothing  of  the 
proposed  marriage  of  the  King,  and  while  seeming  to 
plead  for  you  sought  only  to  advance  his  own  suit.  Cleo- 
patra herself  told  me  as  much.  Bah!  I thought  you  a 
man  of  more  discernment,”  Amyntas  exclaimed  scorn- 
fully. 

“What  avails  Alexander’s  suit  when  the  King  presses  ? 
Nor  can  he  be  ignorant  of  his  father’s  intentions,  Amyn- 


296 


Iskander 


tas.  Such  a thing  were  too  absurd  to  believe,”  Pausanias 
answered,  surprised  at  what  the  other  said. 

“All  the  world  knows  it,  Pausanias,  save  Alexander. 
Who  would  tell  him,  think  you?  Nay,  hint  at  it  even? 
It  were  an  ill-requited  confidence.  You  are  doubly  de- 
ceived, oh  dreamer,  and  while  you  loiter,  the  scorn  of 
men,  she  who  reaches  out  to  you  in  vain  for  succor  will 
be  carried  off  in  the  talons  of  the  great  vulture,”  Amyntas 
responded. 

“Is  that  which  you  tell  me  true,  Amyntas?  Nay, 
swear  it  with  uplifted  arm  before  the  Gods!”  Pausanias 
cried,  facing  the  Prince  with  flaming  eyes. 

“I  swear  that  of  all  men,  oh  Pausanias,  she  loves  you 
and  no  other,”  Amyntas  answered,  lifting  his  hand.  “She 
yields  in  this  to  Attains’  ambitious  dreams  and  the  impor- 
tunities of  the  King,  a victim  to  the  lust  of  those  about 
her.” 

“I  hold  my  life  of  no  account  losing  her,  oh  friends, 
and  if  I have  been  deceived  in  this  the  King  shall  not 
snatch  her  from  me  to  feed  his  brutish  passions,”  Pau- 
sanias cried  in  a frenzy. 

“Had  you  shown  such  spirit  before,  Philip  would  have 
looked  elsewhere  for  a new  mistress,  and  she  be  free  to 
wed  whom  she  pleased.  Now,  having  proclaimed  his 
purpose  to  make  her  his  Queen,  nothing  except  his  death 
can  save  her  from  the  unhappy  fate.” 

“His  death ! How  may  such  a thing  be  achieved  ? And 
if  it  fail  ?”  Pausanias  murmured,  his  face  paling. 

“It  cannot  fail,  or  if  it  should  you  may  live  to  try 
again.  To  this  I pledge  you  both  my  honor  and  my  life,” 
Amyntas  answered  confidently. 


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The  Conspiracy 

“Failing  such  attempt,  I would  kill  myself  in  the  King’s 
presence,”  Pausanias  answered,  despair  overshadowing 
his  countenance. 

“Yes,  to  receive  his  grateful  thanks  for  taking  your- 
self off  so  readily.  Bah ! the  struggle  with  the  King  will 
not  end  thus.  You  will  not  die  the  death  of  a craven, 
but  live  a brave  man  to  free  the  woman  who  loves  and 
trusts  you.” 

“I  swear  it  Amyntas ! Hear  me,  ye  Gods !”  Pausanias 
cried,  at  last  convinced.  “And  as  I am  true  to  my  oath, 
make  me  happy  or  destroy  me  utterly,”  he  went  on  in  a 
frenzy,  lifting  his  clenched  hands  to  heaven. 

“Swear  not  so  loudly,  good  friend,  for  here  comes  one 
who  would  scent  danger  to  his  masters  in  a mouse-trap,” 
Mithrines  exclaimed  as  Clitus  approached  the  group  with 
wary  eyes. 

“The  King  had  best  look  to  his  hens  when  three  such 
hawks  hover  about  the  roost,”  Clitus  muttered  as  he  came 
up,  scanning  the  others  with  suspicious  glance.  “Your 
face,  Pausanias,  has  not  had  so  high  a color  these  six 
months  past.  Were  you  confessing  to  the  Gods  but  now, 
or  taking  some  vain  and  foolish  oath?” 

“He  was  but  forswearing  women,  good  Clitus,  vow- 
ing in  the  hardships  of  the  camp  to  gain  the  honors  he 
has  so  long  given  over  to  idle  dreams,”  Amyntas  an- 
swered, smiling  amiably. 

“I  did  not  know  the  love-sick  could  be  cured  so  easily, 
,oh  Prince.  If  one  has  but  to  swear  then  I will  no  longer 
shun  the  amorous  hour,  but  mingling  with  the  smitten 
youths  claim  some  share  in  their  lascivious  pleasures,” 
Clitus  answered  lightly,  by  no  means  satisfied. 


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“Being  free,  oh  Clitus,  you  had  best  remain  so,  lest, 
catching  the  disease,  distasteful  purgatives  may  be  neces- 
sary to  cure  you  of  the  distemper;  or,  it  growing  upon 
you,  more  wives  come  to  claim  you  than  your  allowance 
warrants,”  Am3mtas  answered,  laughing. 

“Those  who  need  medicine  do  well  to  take  it  cheer- 
fully, and  if  Pausanias’  complaint  has  yielded  to  such 
treatment  may  the  Gods  be  praised!”  Clitus  answered. 

“If  a case  be  hopeless,  Clitus,  and  medicine  fail,  there 
yet  remains  the  knife,”  Pausanias  exclaimed  with  stolid 
face. 

“What!  May  love,  after  all,  be  so  desperate  a thing 
that  the  surgeon  must  cut  out  the  diseased  part,  as  one 
would  extract  an  arrow  or  lop  off  a shattered  limb?” 
Clitus  responded,  attaching  a doubtful  meaning  to  the 
other’s  words. 

“Yes,  when  passion  so  heats  the  blood  that  reason  and 
decency  give  way  to  lustful  indulgence,  then  bleeding  is 
the  only  cure,”  Pausanias  replied,  looking  Clitus  in  the 
face. 

“In  Pausanias’  case,  happily,  a perfectly  harmless  medi- 
cine, albeit  bitter  to  the  taste,  has  done  the  business,  and 
so  he  may  once  more  look  abroad  like  other  men,”  Amyn- 
tas  answered,  putting  his  arm  about  Pausanias  and  lead- 
ing him  away,  followed  by  Mithrines. 

“If  he  be  cured  of  his  love  for  Cleopatra,”  Clitus  mut- 
tered to  himself  as  they  departed,  “then  did  the  blade  of 
that  murderous  pirate  leave  no  scar  on  my  fair  cheek  to 
disfigure  me  forever.  There  is  some  mischief  afoot! 
What  can  it  mean?  Pausanias’  look  was  not  one  to  make 
a man  sleep  in  his  company,  being  at  enmity  with  him. 


299 


The  Conspiracy 

With  such  companions  too!  No,  Beard  of  Cyclops,  there 
is  death  in  the  air  or  I am  a lousy  Spartan.  Amyntas’ 
show  of  frankness,  wily  man,  was  but  a mask.  But  what 
is  it?  Comes  the  danger  from  the  banquet  as  the  warn- 
ing read  ? What  did  the  missive  say  ?”  he  went  on,  pull- 
ing a scrap  of  paper  from  beneath  his  belt  and  eagerly 
perusing  it.  “ ‘Go  armed  to  the  banquet  lest  your  master 
lose,  untimely,  the  thing  his  friends  prize  so  highly?’ 
Eye  of  Cyclops!  Nothing  could  be  plainer,  or  if  it  be  a 
joke,  the  weight  of  our  swords  will  not  tire  us.  You  had 
best  look  to  yourselves,  oh  trustful  King,  and  still  more 
trustful  Prince,  if  you  would  keep  your  hearts  beating  in 
your  breasts,”  and  shaking  his  head  in  deep  perplexity 
Clitus  hastened  away. 

Dismissing  his  companions,  Amyntas  hurried  toward 
his  apartments,  greatly  agitated  over  what  had  taken 
place  and  the  near  consummation,  as  he  believed,  of  his 
carefully  laid  plans.  Little  regarding  what  was  occurring 
about  him,  he  was  stopped  midway  in  his  passage  by  a 
closely  veiled  chair  that  blocked  his  way.  As  he  stood 
still,  impatiently  awaiting  its  movement,  the  curtain  was 
partially  drawn  aside  and  a lady  extending  her  hand  beck- 
oned him  to  approach.  Recognizing  the  jewels  of  the 
Princess  Cleopatra,  he  hastened  to  her  side,  greatly  sur- 
prised at  her  presence  in  the  palace.  Still  keeping  her 
hand  without  the  folds  of  the  curtain,  she  exclaimed,  as 
he  approached,  in  a voice  scarce  audible : 

“To  you,  noble  Prince,  is  reserved  the  honor  of  first 
saluting  your  Queen,  Cleopatra.” 

Astonished  beyond  measure  at  what  he  heard,  he 


300 


Iskander 


pressed  her  hand  to  his  lips  in  respectful  homage,  unable 
to  speak,  so  great  was  his  surprise. 

“The  King,  impatient  of  delay  and  over-riding  every 
obstacle  as  is  his  wont,”  she  went  on,  letting  Amyntas 
have  some  glimpse  of  her  fair  face,  “the  ceremony  was 
performed  according  to  his  commands  within  half  an 
hour  of  your  departure.” 

“I  give  you  loyal  greeting  and  joy,  oh  Queen,  and 
with  it  the  fealty  of  a faithful  subject  who  places  his 
services  and  life  at  your  command,”  Amyntas  answered 
at  last,  overcoming  his  surprise. 

“I  expect  as  much,  oh  Prince;  and  now  adieu,  for  I 
go  to  occupy  the  apartments  the  King  has  graciously  as- 
signed me  beside  his  own,”  and  smiling  upon  him  she 
closed  the  curtains  of  the  chair  as  she  bade  the  attendant 
slaves  go  on. 

Long  Amyntas  stood,  watching  with  unmeaning  eye 
the  door  by  which  she  had  disappeared,  unable  to  deter- 
mine whether  this  sudden  marriage  made  for  or  against 
his  plans.  At  last,  seemingly  satisfied  that  it  would  every 
way  further  his  projects,  he  hastily  entered  the  sumptuous 
apartments  the  King  had  that  morning  assigned  him 
within  the  palace.  Here,  as  he  expected,  he  found  the 
Lyncestian  nobles.  Hardy,  resolute  and  resourceful, 
the  swords  of  these  dissolute  brothers  were  ever  at  the 
command  of  the  highest  bidder.  Corrupted  by  Mithrines’ 
gold  and  aitrapped  by  Amyntas,  they  now  stood  ready  to 
do  what  the  latter  required,  little  regarding  the  future, 
confident  in  their  united  strength  and  purpose. 

Seeing  his  followers  impatiently  awaiting  him  and  not- 


301 


The  Conspiracy 

ing  their  expectant  countenances,  Amyntas,  saluting  them, 
cried  with  joyful  speech : 

“Good  news,  brave  comrades.  The  throne  of  Philip 
topples  with  the  added  weight!” 

“What  mean  you  by  that?”  Lyncestes,  sometimes 
called  Alexander,  answered. 

“Why,  what  else  than  that  the  King,  true  to  his  word, 
like  a foolish  lover,  has  made  Cleopatra  his  Queen.” 

“Already,  say  you?” 

“Yes,  within  the  hour.” 

“How  know  you  this?” 

“From  Cleopatra,  the  Queen,  herself,  as  she  passed  but 
now  in  a curtained  chair,”  Amyntas  answered  in  joyful 
tones. 

“Is  she  within  the  palace?” 

“Yes.” 

“By  the  Gods ! She  waits  not  on  stately  ceremony,  this 
beautiful  Queen;  nor  on  Olympias’  fast  fading  splendor. 
But  I like  her  the  better  for  her  spirit;  if  the  throne  be 
yours,  occupy  it,  and  quickly,”  Lyncestes  answered  mean- 
ingly. 

“Yes,  lest  waiting  you  be  forgotten,”  Heromenes  cried 
in  response,  eying  Amyntas. 

“Where  is  she  lodged?  I knew  not  that  the  palace 
afforded  accommodation  for  two  Queens?”  Arrhabseus, 
the  other  brother,  asked  derisively. 

“The  King  gives  up  half  his  quarters  to  her,  like  an 
indulgent  husband.” 

“That  is  neighborly,  and  seems  to  look  to  some  cur- 
tailment of  the  fair  visitors  who  come  and  go  between 
the  setting  and  rising  sun,”  Lyncestes  cried,  laughing. 


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Iskander 


“Yes,  there  is  to  be  no  more  dallying  with  the  frail 
beauties  of  Pella.  The  Queen  is  to  sleep  in  Philip’s  bed, 
cook  his  food,  open  the  door  to  coming  guests  and  wait 
on  them  when  they  depart.  Thus  the  good  wives  of  the 
kings  did  in  olden  times,  and  so  it  is  to  be  again,”  Amyn- 
tas  answered  with  sardonic  humor. 

“Now,  other  men’s  wives  and  sweethearts  open  the 
King’s  door,  and  all  the  world  has  been  topsy-turvy  be- 
cause of  it,”  Heromenes,who  was  inclined  to  take  a jovial 
view  of  life,  answered.  “But,  good  friend,”  he  went  on 
soberly,  “have  you  nothing  to  tell  us  about  tonight’s  ban- 
quet, more  than  we  already  know?” 

“Naught  save  that  you  carry  sharp  weapons  and  drink 
sparingly,  or  not  at  all,  lest  the  whole  thing  miscarry.” 

“I  do  not  see  that  we  have  any  worthy  part  to  play 
save  to  fall  on  with  sword  and  dagger  when  the  signal 
is  given.  A cup,  more  or  less,  will  but  add  zest  to  the 
work,”  Lyncestes  replied,  filling  a goblet  with  wine  and 
draining  it  at  a draught.  “Has  every  one  his  part  as  well 
in  hand  ?”  he  went  on,  filling  the  cup  afresh  and  beckon- 
ing his  brothers  to  do  the  same. 

“Yes,  even  the  craven  Pausanias,  who  left  me  but  now 
to  arm  himself,  cursing  the  long  delay.” 

“And  Alexander?” 

“Why?  What  of  him?”  Amyntas  asked  surprised. 

“Will  he  not  stay  away  in  resentment  of  the  King’s 
treatment  of  his  mother?  ’Twere  a natural  thing  for 
him  to  do.” 

“No.  Philip  has  commanded  him  to  be  present  that 
nothing  may  be  lacking  to  do  honor  to  Oxyartes’  mission. 
Because  of  that  and  Alexander  having  passed  his  word, 


803 


The  Conspiracy 

there  can  be  no  doubt  of  his  presence,”  Amyntas  an- 
swered confidently. 

“The  more  fool  he — and  Attains  ?”  the  other  queried. 

“He  lends  himself  to  the  plot,  thinking  it  goes  no 
further  than  Alexander.  To  aid  in  this  he  promises  to 
bring  the  King  to  the  feast  excited  with  wine.” 

“An  easy  office,  an  easy  office,”  Heromenes  answered 
dryly.  “I  would  it  had  fallen  to  me.” 

“Afterwards,  the  King  being  wholly  drunk.  Attains 
will  spring  the  trap,”  Amyntas  went  on. 

“To  be  killed  by  Alexander  on  the  spot  for  his  pains, 
or  suffer  some  worse  indignity,”  Heromenes  answered, 
grinning. 

“Quite  likely,”  Amyntas  answered  carelessly.  “Then 
the  King  being  drunk  and  not  knowing  what  he  does,  nor 
caring,  will  strike  Alexander  down  at  his  feet.” 

“That  will  not  be  a thing  so  easy,”  Lyncestes  inter- 
posed incredulously.  “No,  no,  you  expect  too  much, 
Amyntas.  The  Prince,  disgusted  and  angry,  will  be  more 
likely  to  hurry  away,  avoiding  all  strife  with  his  father.” 

“Then  the  King  being  at  our  mercy,  we  may  put  him 
to  death  at  our  leisure.  While  those  lying  in  wait  will 
kill  Alexander  as  he  traverses  the  narrow  path  that  he 
must  to  effect  his  escape  from  the  disgraceful  scene.” 

“But  suppose  he  remains?” 

“Then  being  unprepared,  you  will  fall  upon  him  and 
kill  him  where  he  stands,”  Amyntas  answered  decisive^. 

“But  if  we  fail,  oh  Prince,  as  we  are  likely  to  do,  what 
then?  For  Alexander,  the  best  swordsman  in  the  King- 
dom, is  not  one  to  yield  his  life  easily,”  Lyncestes  an- 
swered soberly. 


304 


Iskander 


“It  cannot  fail,”  Amyntas  replied,  turning  white  at  the 
other’s  serious  manner.  “Or  if  it  does  Alexander  will 
still  be  in  the  wrong,  having  commenced  the  attack  on 
Attains.  While  we,  seeking  only  to  protect  the  King 
and  his  friends  who  are  threatened,  will  escape  with 
praise,  and  so  live  and  prosper  to  try  again.  But  adieu, 
good  friends,  till  night,  for  I must  hasten  to  Olympias  to 
acquaint  her  with  the  marriage  and  Cleopatra’s  presence 
in  the  King’s  apartments,”  Amyntas  cried,  taking  up  his 
cloak  and  hat. 

“ ’Tis  not  an  agreeable  errand,  one  would  think?” 
Heromenes  exclaimed  dryly. 

“On  the  contrary,  it  is  one  I would  not  lose  nor  share 
with  you  for  half  Mithrines’  riches,”  Amyntas  answered 
with  a fiendish  leer  as  he  hurried  away. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 


EXILE  OF  OLYMPIAS. 

Alexander  and  Roxana  going  the  same  day,  in  the 
middle  of  the  afternoon,  to  pay  a visit  to  the  Queen,  the 
Molossian  soldiers  who  guarded  the  door  refused  them 
entrance,  the  officer  explaining  that  his  orders  were  to 
admit  no  one;  but  upon  his  being  dispatched  to  the 
Queen  to  make  known  their  presence,  they  were  presently 
admitted.  On  gaining  admission  they  were  greatly  sur- 
prised and  shocked  at  the  confusion  and  sorrow  that 
reigned  within.  In  the  midst  of  the  disordered  room, 
the  Queen  arrayed  as  if  for  a journey,  stood  dejected,  a 
melancholy  picture  of  grief  and  anger.  About  her  slaves 
were  hurrying  hither  and  thither,  intent  on  the  work  in 
hand  and  paying  little  or  no  regard  to  the  person  or  dig- 
nity of  their  sovereign.  Grouped  about  the  distraught 
Queen  in  mournful  attitude,  their  faces  stained  with  tears, 
her  waiting  women  stood  silent  and  motionless,  overcome 
by  some  great  sorrow. 

Motioning  the  slaves  and  attendants  to  withdraw,  the 
Queen  held  out  her  hands  in  welcome  to  Roxana,  and 
when  the  latter  would  have  knelt  in  humble  obeisance,  the 
Queen  raised  her  up  and  tenderly  embraced  her.  - Then 
turning  with  abrupt  movement  to  Alexander,  she  threw 
her  arms  about  his  neck,  pressing  her  face  with  passion- 
ate love  against  his  cheek.  Thus  she  stood  without' 
speaking,  her  form  shaken  by  the  great  sorrow  that  op- 

(305) 


306 


I skander 


pressed  her.  Respecting  her  grief  Alexander  remained 
silent,  awaiting  some  explanation  of  her  dejection  and 
the  confusion  that  reigned  throughout  her  apartments; 
but  when  she  neither  stirred  nor  vouchsafed  him  a word, 
he  at  last  exclaimed,  his  voice  tremulous  with  the  agi- 
tation that  stirred  his  heart: 

“Tell  me,  oh  Queen,  the  cause  of  your  anguish.  What 
sorrow  is  it  that  consumes  you  and  what  means  this  con- 
fusion as  if  in  preparation  for  some  sudden  journey?” 
Receiving  no  response  to  his  appeal,  he  presently 
went  on,  striving  the  while  to  soothe  her  agitation  with 
tender  caresses : “We  come,  my  mother,  to  pay  you  a visit 
of  love  and  joy  and  find  you  stricken  speechless  by  some 
great  sorrow,  so  that  overwhelmed  at  the  sight  we  know 
not  what  to  say  or  think.” 

“Let  me  share  in  your  grief,  oh  Queen,  if  the  love  and 
honor  I bear  you  is  worthy  of  such  great  indulgence?” 
Roxana  exclaimed,  her  eyes  bedimmed  with  tears  at  sight 
of  the  grief  of  the  strong  Queen. 

At  last  lifting  up  her  head,  Olympias  answered  with  a 
weary  smile: 

“I  had  thought  to  hide  my  unhappiness,  nor  sadden 
those  I love  with  the  pitiable  spectacle,  for  it  is  of  such 
unwholesome  nature  that  none  can  share  it  or  in  any  way 
lessen  its  depth.  Bear  with  my  weakness,  then,  sweet 
children,  now  that  you  have  come,  for  I shall  not  long 
mar  your  young  lives  with  my  melancholy  presence,”  and 
taking  their  hands  in  hers  she  drew  them  tenderly  to  her 
side. 

“What  mean  you,  oh  Queen,  by  such  strange  speech? 
and  wherefore  this  great  sorrow  which  we  would  fain 


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Exile  of  Olympias 

share  if  you  will,”  Alexander  exclaimed,  fervently  kiss- 
ing his  mother. 

“I  know  I hav^  your  love,  Alexander,  and  so  am  not 
like  one  utterly  forsaken;  and  yours,  sweet  Princess,” 
she  added,  seeing  Roxana’s  look  of  distress.  “But  all 
save  those  who  followed  me  from  my  own  country  when 
I came  here  a bride  have  fallen  away,  and  I am  as  one 
lost.  The  King  and  those  who  fawn  upon  him  and  thrive 
upon  his  favor  turn  from  me  to  a new  and  fairer  face, 
and  so  I,  who  gave  Macedonia  an  heir,  am  no  longer 
thought  fit  to  be  the  Queen,”  she  answered,  her  face 
flushing  at  the  humiliating  confession. 

“What  strange  delusion  is  this,  oh  mighty  Queen,  for 
no  one  thinks  or  dreams  of  act  so  dastardly ! Our  coun- 
try can  never  have  another  Queen  nor  wish  for  one  so 
long  as  you  may  live,”  Alexander  answered,  astonished  at 
what  she  said. 

“Your  eyes  are  more  partial  than  the  King’s,  my  son, 
else  I should  not  now  be  driven  from  the  court  in  dis- 
grace.” 

“Driven  from  the  court,  oh  Queen?”  Alexander  an- 
swered, anger  overclouding  his  face.  “What  mean  you? 
Who  will  do  such  a thing  and  wherefore?” 

“It  may  not  be  concealed  from  you  longer,  my  loving 
son,  and  it  is  to  your  honor  that  every  one,  either 
through  love  or  fear,  has  kept  it  from  you  till  now,”  she 
answered  with  a melancholy  show  of  pride. 

“What  has  been  kept  from  me?  Speak,  mother,  for 
I am  tortured  beyond  endurance  by  your  strange  speech !” 
Alexander  cried  impatiently,  loth  to  accept  the  import  of 
• her  speech. 


308 


I skander 


“Know  then,  my  son,  that  the  King,  tiring  of  liis 
Queen,  has  this  day  divorced  her,  and  a new  Queen  has 
been  brought  to  the  palace  and  now  shares  his  apart- 
ments,” she  answered,  her  eyes  flaming  with  jealous  rage 
and  hate. 

“No,  no  ! Not  as  Queen,  mother.  Another  wife  maybe, 
nothing  more;  and  what  does  that  matter  after  all  these 
years  of  sorrow  and  abandonment;  for  in  such  things, 
you  know  full  well,  the  King  cannot  be  controlled,”  Alex- 
ander answered,  believing  what  she  said,  yet  putting  it 
away  as  one  would  a thing  unutterable. 

“No,  not  a simple  wife  nor  common  mistress  to  flaunt 
her  finery  in  the  face  of  the  Queen  for  a day  and  then 
disappear  to  make  way  for  another,  as  in  the  past,  but  a 
Queen,  oh  Prince,  wearing  the  crown  and  having  the  title 
and  honor,  if  there  be  longer  honor  in  it,”  the  unhappy 
woman  answered  with  sad  scorn. 

“It  cannot  be,  sweet  Queen,  that  the  King  should  be 
thus  disregardful  of  your  honor  and  the  country’s  good 
name.  Some  one  has  given  circulation  to  the  cruel  story 
to  cause  you  pain  and  further  estrange  you  from  the 
King.” 

“No,  it  was  the  King"  himself  who  told  me,  and  now 
it  is  confirmed  by  the  base  and  crawling  sycophant  Amyn- 
tas.  And  though  I stooped  to  plead  with  the  monster  of 
lust  to  spare  me  the  deep  disgrace,  he  answered  only  by 
bidding  me  choose  between  exile  and  retirement  to 
Edessa,”  she  answered,  flushing  at  the  recollection  of  the 
deep  disgrace. 

“What  answer  did  you  make,  brave  Queen,  to  speech  so 


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Exile  of  Olympias 

insulting  ?”  Alexander  murmured  in  response,  scarce  able 
to  speak,  so  great  was  his  rage. 

“What  think  you  I said,  chivalrous  Prince,  save  that  in 
exile  I might  breathe  the  sweet  air  of  heaven,  while  here 
it  would  strangle  me.” 

“By  the  Gods  above,  you  shall  neither  be  exiled,  oh 
Queen,  nor  quit  the  court ! Such  disgrace  would  be  intol- 
erable, and  if  he  force  open  war,  war  it  shall  be!”  Alex- 
ander cried,  unable  to  restrain  his  fury.  “But  who  is  the 
subservient  creature  he  has  chosen  to  fill  the  dishonored 
office?” 

“Cleopatra,  Attains’  niece !”  she  answered  shortly,  as  if 
the  name  choked  her. 

“That  cannot  be,  oh  Queen,”  Alexander  cried,  sur- 
prised out  of  himself,  “for  within  the  hour  she  con- 
fessed— But  no,  no,  the  King  cannot  be  thus  tricked.  Yes- 
terday so  great,  he  cannot  have  fallen  to  such  level  of 
folly  and  degradation  today.” 

“His  infatuation  for  the  painted  courtesan  knows  no 
bounds,  and,  poor  fool,  he  thinks  her  crazed  with  a like 
passion  for  himself.  Oh,  he  has  not  fallen,  for  there  are 
no  depths  of  wickedness  or  human  desire  that  his  lust  has 
not  long  since  sounded,”  she  cried  with  bitter  emphasis. 

“I  will  go  to  him,  oh  Queen.  His  kindness  has  ever 
been  greater  than  my  worth,  and  he  cannot  now  put  such 
disgrace  upon  you,  my  mother.” 

“No,  you  shall  not  suffer  the  humiliation,  Alexander, 
for  no  one  can  turn  Philip  from  a fixed  resolve;  and 
upon  this  he  is  determined.  ’Tis  too  late,  my  son,  for 
the  marriage  is  already  consummated  and  the  station  of 
the  woman  fixed.” 


310 


Iskander 


“He  can  still  withdraw  if  he  will,  being  all  powerful,” 
Alexander  answered  despairingly. 

“He  will  not.  Nor  will  I parley  with  the  beast  further, 
but  flying  hence,  cleanse  my  throat  of  the  air  that  his 
presence  contaminates.” 

“Fly ! What  have  you  in  mind,  oh  Queen  ? Is  that  the 
meaning  of  this  dire  confusion  ?”  he  cried,  looking  around 
at  the  dismantled  rooms. 

“Yes,  my  child.  Would  you  have  me  stay  to  make 
humble  obeisance  to  the  bastard  Queen?  No!  I will  not 
await  her  summons,  but  hasten  ere  this  new  indignity  be 
put  upon  me.” 

“Not  now,  oh  Queai,  for  there  is  no  such  haste.  They 
dare  not  thus  humiliate  you,  or  if  you  be  determined  I 
will  go  with  you  to  await  in  exile  a happier  fortune,” 
Alexander  answered,  caressing  his  mother. 

“No,  you  must  stay.  You  shall  not  thus  play  into  the 
hands  of  our  enemies.  You  must  remain  to  guard  your 
fortunes  and  honor.  The  Kingdom  is  yours  as  much  as 
Philip’s  in  right  of  succession.  Away,  he  will  be  led  to  ' 
choose  another  in  your  place,  and  so  the  throne  will  be 
jeopardized  or  lost.” 

“He  may  so  decree,  but  once  the  throne  is  vacant  I will 
mount  it  though  all  Macedonia,  misled  by  his  creatures, 
.should  oppose  me.  Being  King  you  shall  be  Queen  as 
now,  or  if  it  is  filled  by  another  it  shall  be  by  my  wife, 
and  to  your  honor  and  greater  dignity,”  and  taking  Rox- 
ana’s hand,  who  stood  surprised  and  dumfounded  at 
what  she  heard,  he  went  on : “Such  a wife,  oh  Queen,  I 
have  chosen.  Behold  and  greet  her,  I beseech  you,  as 
her  grace  and  sweetness  merit,”  and  kneeling  with  Rox- 


311 


Exile  of  Olympias 

ana  before  the  Queen,  they  caught  hold  of  her  garments 
in  prayerful  supplication. 

‘‘I  could  not  have  chosen  one  more  worthy  to  be  your 
Queen,  nor  one  I so  greatly  love,”  the  Queen  answered, 
no  way  surprised,  putting  her  arm  about  Roxana  and 
lifting  her  up.  “But  the  King  will  never  consent  to  such 
union,  and  has  so  declared  himself  to  me,  for  he  already 
has  word  of  your  passion.” 

“I  shall  not  ask  his  consent,  for  in  this  I will  have  my 
way,  nor  relinquish  it  were  all  the  world  offered  me  as 
the  dower  of  another,”  he  answered,  kissing  Roxana’s 
hand. 

“So  I would  have  you;  But  if  you  would  possess  her 
for  your  Queen  you  must  bide  the  hour,  nor  seek  to  hasten 
it  lest  the  army,  heated  with  expectancy  of  conquest,  de- 
stroy you  both  ere  it  think  a second  time.  Or  if  you  be 
allowed  to  live  it  will  be  in  exile,  to  your  and  her  lasting 
unhappiness,”  the  Queen  answered  solemnly. 

“Nay,  I would  gladly  relinquish  the  uncertain  bauble 
if  thereby  we  might  live  apart  and  free  from  the  warring 
factions  and  intrigues  of  the  court,”  Alexander  answered, 
turning  to  Roxana  with  a loving  smile. 

“No,  Iskander,  you  shall  not  hurry  to  your  overthrow 
and  death  by  such  unworthy  preference,”  Roxana  inter- 
posed, clasping  her  arms  about  Alexander.  “For  your 
assurance  would  not  be  believed,  and  once  you  were  dis- 
armed and  powerless,  your  enemies  would  lose  no  time 
in  effecting  your  death.” 

“If  you  would  live,  oh  Prince,  you  must  meet  cun- 
ning with  greater  cunning,  guarding  your  life  and  hopes 
perpetually  as  from  enemies  intent  upon  your  destruction. 


312 


Iskander 


Nor  shall  you  break  with  the  King,  my  son,  grievous  as 
is  the  wrong  he  has  done  me;  for,  tiring  of  this  new 
passion,  as  of  every  other,  he  will  at  last  be  led  to  respect 
your  rights,  and  so  you  will  in  the  end  come  to  the  throne 
without  strife.” 

“How  can  I obey  you  in  this,  oh  Queen,  when  I no 
longer  respect  or  cherish  him?  This  wanton  indignity 
chills  my  heart,  and  if  I profess  affection  it  will  be  with- 
out sincerity,  and  so  must  end  in  strife.  No,  I will  go 
with  you  and  in  Epirus  await  the  outcome  that  must 
surely  attend  this  mesalliance.” 

“You  shall  not.  I,  your  Queen,  command  it.  Or,  if 
that  be  not  enough,  your  mother  begs  it,  Alexander.  Here 
you  shall  stay  unless,  indeed,  some  great  indignity  be  put 
upon  you,  or  your  life  be  threatened.  No  ! Do  not  de- 
stroy me  utterly,  Alexander.  Do  not  make  my  despair 
greater  by  thus  relinquishing  your  birthright  to  our  ene-* 
mies.  Come,  my  son,  my  sweet  Prince,  tell  me  you  will 
not,  for  otherwise  I shall  kill  myself,  so  that  my  unhappy 
fortunes  may  no  longer  overcloud  your  future.” 

“I  cannot  promise,  oh  Queen.  ’Twould  be  folly,  for 
who  can  measure  the  insolence  and  oppression  of  those 
who  now  have  possession  of  the  King?” 

“But  you  will  at  least  await  some  overt  act,  some  great 
excuse.  Nay,  you  must,  you  shall,  for  I will  by  no  means 
listen  to  your  going  at  this  time.  There!  embrace  me, 
my  son,  and  leave  me.  And  you,  sweet  Princess,  adieu 
till  we  meet  beneath  a less  troubled  sky.  Or,  if  perchance, 
that  should  never  be,  cherish  Alexander  and  his  hopes 
with  a brave  and  loving  heart,  as  his  mother  has  ever 
sought  to  do.  To  your  wedlock  I freely  give  my  consent. 


313 


Exile  of  Olympias 

but  await  the  propitious  moment  for  its  public  avowal; 
until  it  conforms  more  nearly  to  the  interests  of  the  state, 
nor  by  undue  haste  alienate  those  who  love  and  would 
serve  you,”  the  Queen  exclaimed,  her  anxieties  melting 
her  heart  at  the  dark  prospect  that  overshadowed  her  son, 
and  she  whom  he  would  make  his  Queen. 

“This  I promise  you,  oh  Queen,”  Roxana  answered, 
kissing  her  hand,  “for  I would  rather  die,  as  you  have 
but  now  avowed  for  yourself,  than  cloud  the  glory  of 
Iskander’s  life  by  any  act  of  mine.” 

“By  ■v\''aiting,  sweet  Princess,  you  will  assure  both  his 
happiness  and  your  own.  For,  unless  misled  by  some  act 
of  his,  the  army  will  surely  assert  his  right  to  the  throne 
when  it  becomes  vacant.  Once  he  is  King  and  the  time 
is  ripe,  he  may  make  you  Queen  and  so  fulfill  our  every 
hope.  There,  go,  my  children,  and  you,  my  son,  be  wise 
and  brave  and  kingly  amid  the  dangers  that  threaten 
you,”  and  kissing  them  amid  her  tears  she  would  have 
thus  dismissed  them. 

“You  will  not  seek  to  leave  the  court,  my  mother,  ex- 
cept with  such  honor  as  your  friends  may  bestow  and  the 
escort  and  regal  state  that  befits  so  great  a Queen,”  Alex- 
ander answered,  standing  still. 

“What  matters  it?  Public  leave-taking  would  be  un- 
seemly, and  my  Molossian  sailors  and  guards  will  afford 
me  every  protection,  for  I am  still  their  Queen,  oh  Prince, 
and  shall  be  to  the  end,  however  it  may  be  with  others,” 
she  answered  with  some  show  of  her  former  pride. 

“But  Roxana,  my  love,  oh  Queen.  She  shall  not  re- 
main here,  you  being  gone,  to  be  made  the  plaything  of 
Cleopatra.” 


314 


I skander 


“She  will  by  no  means  molest  her,  Alexander,  but 
rather  seek  to  do  her  honor,  hoping  thereby  to  gain 
strength  in  her  new  position,”  the  Queen  answered,  sur- 
prised at  his  vehemence. 

“You  know  not  what  you  say,  oh  Queen.  Nor  can 
you  measure  Cleopatra’s  emnity  or  its  strange  origin,” 
Alexander  cried,  remembering  the  deep  hatred  she  had 
evinced  toward  the  Persian  Princess.  “No,  her  life  is 
not  secure  an  hour  within  the  palace  under  the  new 
Queen.  Seek  not,  my  mother,  to  know  why,  but  rather 
help  me  to  find  some  way  to  avoid  the  danger.” 

“Where  can  she  go  and  still  be  safe  if  what  you  say 
be  true?”  the  Queen  answered,  perplexed. 

“Nor  can  I thus  leave  my  father,  Iskander.  My  going 
thus  hurriedly  would  be  thought  so  great  an  indignity  by 
the  King  that  he  would,  in  his  anger,  drive  the  embassy 
from  the  palace,”  Roxana  interposed,  her  fair  brow 
clouded  with  anxiety. 

“Why  may  she  not  go,  and  with  you,  oh  Queen,  to  pay 
a visit  of  ceremony  to  the  Princess  Parcledes,  and  being 
there  stay  on  indefinitely?”  Alexander  asked,  his  brow 
clearing  at  the  thought. 

“Can  I do  this,  Iskander,  when  the  King  expects  me 
to  personate  the  Persian  Queen  at  the  banquet  tonight  ?” 
Roxana  asked,  perplexed. 

“A  slave  will  do  as  well,  sweet  Princess,  and  no  one 
be  the  wiser,”  Alexander  exclaimed  decisively.  “Thus, 
as  I propose,  you  may  escape  the  danger  that  threatens 
and  avoid  injuring  your  father’s  cause.” 

“Have  it  as  you  will,  Iskander,  for  I have  no  will  to 
oppose  to  yours,”  Roxana  answered,  giving  way. 


315 


Exile  of  Olympias 

“Hasten  then  to  advise  your  father,  sweet  Princess, 
and  return  quickly  that  my  departure  may  not  be  de- 
layed,” the  Queen  answered,  dismissing  them. 

Taking  their  leave,  Alexander  and  Roxana  hastened 
toward  the  part  of  the  fortress  occupied  by  the  Persian 
embassy,  their  minds  too  full  of  the  thoughts  that  op- 
pressed them  to  admit  of  speech.  Meeting  Lysimachus 
on  the  way,  the  latter  stopped  them,  crying  out : 

“The  King  sends  his  greeting,  oh  Prince,  and  com- 
mands you  a second  time  on  no  account  to  absent  yourself 
from  the  banquet  tonight.” 

“Wherefore  does  he  repeat  the  summons,  good  Lysi- 
machus, and  in  such  peremptory  language?”  Alexander 
asked,  surprised. 

“I  know  not,  oh  master,  only  that  he  returned  to  the 
palace  a little  while  ago,  and  with  such  black  looks  that 
everyone  sought  some  excuse  to  hurry  away  as  quickly 
as  he  could.  Calling  Antipater  he  gave  directions  that 
the  guard  at  the  entrance  to  the  palace  be  doubled  and  no 
one  be  admitted  after  nightfall  save  those  seen  and  ap- 
proved by  the  Governor.” 

Surmising  the  cause  of  the  King’s  ill  temper,  but  by 
no  means  understanding  the  occasion  of  these  precau- 
tions, Alexander  would  have  gone  on  his  way  but  Lysi- 
machus, standing  still,  exclaimed  in  a loud  voice : 

“Nor  was  that  all,  oh  Prince,  but  as  if  some  danger 
threatened,  the  King  further  ordered  that  only  old  and 
trusted  sentries  be  posted  about  the  palace  tonight,  and 
that  the  watchword  be  changed  at  the  last  moment.” 

“What  is  it  to  be?”  Alexander  asked  absently. 

“I  know  not,  for  it  may  only  be  divulged  to  those 


316 


I skander 


whose  duty  calls  them  without  the  fortress,”  Lysimachus 
answered,  shame-faced  at  being  left  in  ignorance. 

“Already  danger  threatens  you,  Iskander,”  Roxana  ex- 
claimed with  anxious  voice  when  they  were  alone. 

“No,  fear  not,  sweet  Princess.  The  King  cannot  so 
soon  have  turned  against  me.  It  is  but  some  simple  pre- 
caution attendant  upon  tonight’s  festivities,  when  many 
from  the  city  will  come  to  view  the  spectacle,”  Alexander 
answered  with  troubled  brow. 

“Wherefore  his  black  looks  at  so  joyous  a time,  if  that 
be  all?  Oh  look  well  tO’  yourself,  sweet  Prince,  nor 
trust  any  but  those  in  whom  you  can  confide  your  life.” 

“The  walls  have  ears,  sweet  Princess,  and  it  behooves 
all  who  are  threatened  to  have  a confident  air,  however 
ill  at  ease  they  may  be,”  Clitus  exclaimed  at  her  elbow. 
“A  closed  mouth  and  a ready  weapon  are  what  the  times 
call  for,  oh  Prince,  or  I am  a beggar  at  guessing,”  and 
lifting  his  arm  Clitus  hurried  on  as  if  his  thoughts  were 
wholly  intent  on  the  duties  he  had  in  hand. 

“Clitus  is  ever  fearful  that  some  danger  threatens  me,” 
Alexander  exclaimed  as  if  to  reassure  Roxana.  “I  will 
go  in  person  to  learn  the  meaning  of  these  precautions. 
Good  master,’’  he  went  on,  calling  to  Lysimachus,  “go  to 
the  King  and  say  I crave  audience  with  him  if  it  be  his 
pleasure.” 

“I  dare  not,  oh  Prince.  Choose  some  other  messen- 
ger, I pray  you,  for  he  has  given  orders  that  only  Attains 
and  his  niece  are  to  be  admitted  to  his  presence.” 

“It  is  as  I feared,  Iskander.  Only  your  enemies  are 
allowed  the  King’s  ear.  Go  arm  yourself,  and  by  no 
means  attend  the  banquet  tonight,  despite  the  King’s 


Exile  of  Olympias  SIT 

order.  Such  happenings  in  Susa  ever  foretell  some 
dreadful  tragedy  to  those  out  of  favor  with  the  great 
King.” 

“No,  I will  not  let  my  enemies  say  I feared  to  show 
myself  when  danger  threatened,  if  it  be  true  that  some 
plot  is  brewing  in  which  I am  concerned,”  Alexander  an- 
swered, his  eyes  blazing  defiantly. 

“Then  go  armed,  and  hide  a coat  of  steel  beneath  your 
cloak,  if  you  will  incur  the  needless  danger.” 

“No,  sweet  Princess.  If  I am  doomed,  such  device, 
the  fruit  of  apprehension,  will  only  hasten  its  coming. 
The  precautions  taken  are  not  the  King’s,  who  knows  not 
what  fear  is,  but  Attalus’,  who  suspects  others  of  the 
treachery  he,  himself,  ever  practices.  No,  sweet  love,  I 
will  go  to  the  banquet,  and  with  no  other  arms  than  those 
worn  about  the  court,”  Alexander  answered  decisively. 

“Then  you  are  doomed  to  death,  Iskander,  for  sure  I 
am  some  plot  is  formed  to  bring  about  your  destruction,” 
she  answered  with  a woman’s  cunning  instinct. 

“No,  sweet  love,  for  I shall  have  Clitus  and  other  good 
friends  about  me.  Let  us  not  fear  the  conflict  if  it  must 
come,  but  rather  court  it  that  the  murky  atmosphere  may 
the  sooner  clear.  It  is  amidst  such  dangers  that  our 
princes  live,  and  they  may  not  escape  them  if  they  would, 
my  sweet.” 

“I  would  persuade  you  if  I could,  but  being  weak  must 
yield  to  your  stronger  will ; but  remember,  Iskander,  that 
you  treasure  another’s  heart  that  will  no  longer  beat  when 
yours  is  still.” 

To  this  Alexander  made  no  other  response  than  to  kiss 
Roxana’s  hand  as  they  hurried  forward.  Reaching  her 


318 


Iskander 


apartments  they  found  the  Princess  Sylvia,  Philip’s 
daughter  by  his  Dacian  wife,  awaiting  Roxana’s  return. 
Seeing  her  as  they  approached,  Alexander  asked  in  sur- 
prise ; 

“What  errand  brings  her  here,  think  you,  Roxana?” 

“She  often  visits  me  thus,  being  most  kind  in  her  at- 
tentions. But  now  I suspect  she  comes  with  reference  to 
the  evening  festivities,  for  the  Princess,  thinking  the 
Persian  dress  more  resplendent  than  that  of  her  own 
country,  wishes  to  appear  thus  disguised  and  so  comes, 
I doubt  not,  to  seek  my  aid.” 

“Will  you  do  what  she  asks?”  Alexander  inquired, 
striving  to  detect  some  hidden  purpose  in  the  exchange 
which  Sylvia  desired  to  make. 

“Yes,  and  indeed  beg  her  to  appear  in  my  place  as 
the  Persian  Queen  if  she  be  so  inclined.  Then  if  the 
imposition  be  discovered  the  King  cannot  be  angry  with 
his  daughter  for  the  deception,”  Roxana  answered,  hur- 
rying forward. 

The  Princess  Sylvia,  on  the  request  being  preferred  of 
her,  joyfully  acceded  to  the  other’s  wishes,  and  the  mat- 
ter being  quickly  arranged,  Roxana  hastened  to  her  father 
to  gain  his  permission  to  visit  the  Princess  Parcledes.  In 
this  she  had  no  great  difficulty,  for  Oxyartes,  the  brave 
and  single-minded  soldier  that  he  was,  believed  his 
daughter  to  be  the  wisest  and  best  woman  in  the  world, 
and  so  believing,  allowed  her  to  do,  in  all  things,  exactly 
as  she  wished.  Having  gained  his  permission  and  every? 
thing  pertaining  to  the  visit  being  happily  arranged,  Alex- 
ander and  Roxana  returned  to  the  Queen,  whom  they 
found  impatiently  awaiting  their  coming.  Welcoming 


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Exile  of  Olympias 

them  with  a sad  smile,  she  at  once  gave  orders  for  her  de- 
parture. Nor  was  this  long  delayed,  the  slaves  and  attend- 
ants who  were  to  accompany  her  being  already  domiciled 
on  board  the  great  galley,  which  lay  moored  at  the  private 
entrance  to  the  fortress.  This  noble  vessel,  the  Queen’s 
own,  was  manned  throughout  by  her  Molossian  country- 
men, for  neither  now  nor  in  the  past  would  she  trust  any 
others.  Midway  of  the  vessel  a lofty  mast  carried  a wide 
spreading  sail  of  crimson  cloth  in  imitation  of  the  Egyp- 
tian fashion,  and  in  supplement  to  this  a hundred  oars- 
men helped  to  propel  the  gallant  ship.  At  either  end  of 
the  galley,  platforms  served  the  purposes  of  the  guard  or 
afforded  vantage  ground  in  case  of  attack  or  defense. 
Beneath  that,  in  the  rear,  a spacious  saloon  was  prepared 
for  the  Queen  and  smaller  rooms  for  her  attendants.  In 
the  prow  similar  space  served  for  the  soldiers  and  officers 
who  manned  the  galley.  Such  was  the  noble  vessel  on 
which  the  brave  Queen  set  out  on  her  long  voyage 
through  the  ^gean  and  Ionian  seas  on  her  way  to  Epirus, 
the  country  of  her  birth.  Going  on  board,  accompanied 
by  Alexander  and  Roxana,  the  resolute  Queen  assuming 
command  of  the  ship,  gave  instant  orders  to  weigh  an- 
chor. 

“Say  to  the  oarsmen,”  she  cried,  calling  the  captain  to 
her  side,  as  the  galley  got  under  way,  “that  they  shall 
have  triple  pay  and  allowances  of  wine  if  tomorrow’s 
dawn  finds  the  ship  in  the  open  waters  of  the  Gulf.” 

Thus  this  great  and  most  unhappy  Queen  took  her  de- 
parture from  the  capital  of  Macedonia,  where  her  two 
children  were  born  and  where  she  had  passed  so  many 
distressful  years  of  wedded  life.  Gaining  the  open  river, 


320 


Iskander 


the  swift  galley  shot  forward  in  its  course  to  the  south 
with  ever-increasing  speed.  Standing  on  the  raised  plat- 
form of  the  ship  the  Queen  and  her  companions  watched 
with  aching  hearts  and  tear-dimmed  eyes  the  fast  reced- 
ing fortress  and  adjacent  city.  Approaching  the  hut  of 
Parcledes,  the  Queen  could  not  be  prevailed  upon  to  dis- 
embark, but  announced  her  purpose  to  proceed  without 
delay.  Embracing  Roxana  with  tender  love,  she  turned 
to  Alexander  and  clasped  him  in  her  arms,  her  counte- 
nance agitated  by  the  grief  she  sought  in  vain  to  control. 
At  last,  releasing  him,  she  led  him  to  the  side  of  the  ship, 
exclaiming : 

“Be  steadfast  and  true,  my  Prince,  and  await  with  such 
patience  as  you  can  the  coming  of  happier  days.”  Clasp- 
ing him  again  in  her  arms  and  kissing  him  with  fervent 
love,  she  turned  and  hurriedly  entered  her  room. 

Unable  to  speak,  Alexander  and  Roxana  went  on  board 
the  Prince’s  barge,  which  had  followed  after  with  Ossa 
and  the  guard  and  attendants  of  the  Princess.  With  their 
departure,  the  galley  of  the  Queen  responding  to  the  com- 
mand of  the  captain,  quickly  resumed  its  rapid  flight,  and 
though  Alexander  and  Roxana  watched  with  tearful  eyes 
and  throbbing  hearts  until  the  vessel  was  lost  to  view,  the 
Queen  came  not  from  her  retirement.  A prey  to  her  de- 
spairing sorrow  she  remained  hidden  within  the  privacy 
of  her  room  and  emerged  not  again  until  the  staunch  ship 
buffeted  the  troubled  waters  of  the  ^gean  Sea. 

When,  at  last,  the  galley  had  passed  from  view,  Alex- 
ander brought  his  barge  to  the  shore,  and  taking  Roxana’s 
hand  led  her  in  sorrow  to  the  door  of  Parcledes’  hut. 
Great  was  the  surprise  and  pleasure  of  the  Princess  at 


321 


Exile  of  Olympias 

their  coming,  but  greater  still  her  astonishment  to  learn 
of  the  flight  of  the  Queen  and  the  surprising  happenings 
at  the  court  of  Philip,  for  this  unhappy  Princess  lived 
apart  and  in  such  lonely  retirement  that  she  heard  little 
or  nothing  of  the  great  world  without;  treasuring  the 
memory  of  her  husband  and  full  of  the  care  of  her  daugh- 
ter, she  gave  little  or  no  thought  to  aught  else.  Welcom- 
ing Roxana  as  if  she  were  a favored  child,  and  assuring 
her  of  the  happiness  her  coming  gave,  she  shortly  has- 
tened away  to  make  suitable  provision  for  the  Princess’ 
comfort. 

Left  alone,  Alexander  and  Roxana  clasped  their  arms 
about  each  other  in  fervent  love,  overcome  by  the  sad 
happenings  of  the  day.  Scarce  speaking,  so  full  were 
their  hearts,  the  afternoon  waned  and  Alexander  still 
stayed  on,  soothed  and  comforted  by  Roxana’s  presence. 
Nor  would  he  have  gone  when  the  sun  at  last  disappeared 
behind  the  distant  mountains,  had  not  Roxana  put  her 
arm  about  him  and  led  him  to  the  river  bank,  where  his 
barge  lay  moored.  There,  taking  sad  leave  of  her  and 
promising  to  return  on  the  morrow,  Alexander  went 
aboard  and  the  sailors  plying  their  oars  with  hearty  zeal, 
the  vessel  shot  into  the  stream  and  so  quickly  regained 
the  city* 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 


THE  HISTORICAL  BANQUET  OF  PHILIP. 

In  conformity  with  the  simple  habits  of  his  life,  and 
that  the  feast  might  not  be  unduly  delayed  nor  needlessly 
cut  short,  Philip  ordered  the  setting  of  the  banquet  for 
an  early  hour.  So  that  the  day  had  scarcely  closed  ere 
the  guests  gathered  with  military  promptness  in  the  great 
hall  of  audience  off  the  King’s  private  room.  While  they 
thus  stood  about  discussing  in  low  voices  and  with  many 
a covert  laugh  the  surprising  events  of  the  day  Philip 
abruptly  entered,  followed  by  the  new  favorite  Attains. 
Of  commanding  presence  and  kingly  mien,  Philip  looked 
as  he  strode  forth  what  he  truly  was,  the  foremost  man 
of  all  the  world.  His  massive  and  well-shaped  head  cov- 
ered with  curly  black  hair  was  surmounted  by  a golden 
crown  heavily  incrusted  with  resplendent  jewels.  About 
his  strong  arms  and  neck  he  wore,  according  to  the  fash- 
ion of  the  age,  numerous  bands  of  gold  heavily  incrusted 
with  jewels.  A long  cloak  of  Tyrian  purple,  trimmed 
with  fur,  partially  hid  the  rich  coat  of  embroidered  gold 
that  he  wore  beneath. 

Sweeping  the  room  with  quick  glance  and  noting  Alex- 
ander’s absence,  a deep  frown  overspread  his  bronzed  and 
rugged  features;  but  this  presently  giving  place  to  a 
smile  of  welcome,  he  greeted  those  assembled  with  kingly 
courtesy.  Going  directly  to  each  guest  standing  ex- 
pectant in  a semi-circle  about  the  great  room,  he  said  some 

(322) 


323 


The  Historical  Banquet  of  Philip 

word  of  friendship  or  greeting  to  each  and  every  one. 
Then,  preceded  by  the  officers  of  the  court,  and  at- 
tended by  the  royal  pages,  the  King  took  his  way  without 
loss  of  time  to  the  banqueting  hall.  After  him  and  more 
like  captives  than  aught  else,  came  the  Persian  Ambassa- 
dors, their  brilliant  raiment  blazing  with  resplendent  jew- 
els. Following  them  in  order  of  their  rank  came  the 
Macedonian  nobles  and  inferior  guests  of  the  evening.  ' 

As  the  procession  emerged  upon  the  wide  balcony  of 
the  spacious  court,  musicians,  in  picturesque  costumes, 
sounding  their  instruments,  preceded  the  stately  line  of 
march.  First  in  order  came  a group  of  handsome  youths, 
blowing  long  and  slender  horns  of  silver,  costumed  in 
sleeveless  tunics  of  clinging  white  cloth,  trimmed  with 
red  and  gold.  Their  legs  were  bare  to  the  knees  while 
sandals  covered  their  feet,  bound  about  the  ankles  with 
strands  of  gold.  Following  them  came  youths  clad  in 
short  coats  of  blue,  trimmed  with  Grecian  bands  of 
white,  playing  fifes  adorned  with  gold.  Surmounting 
their  heads  high  pointed  hats  of  pure  white,  adorned  with 
waving  plumes,  strangely  contrasted  with  the  wreaths  of 
green  that  encircled  the  heads  of  those  preceding  them. 
Following  these  came  youths,  ten  in  number,  playing 
flutes  with  silver  mountings.  They  were  costumed  in 
short  tunics  of  pale  green  cloth,  trimmed  with  bands  of 
gold  about  the  skirt  and  waist  and  adorned  with  girdles 
of  pure  silver.  Their  long  and  luxuriant  hair,  flowing 
loose  about  their  graceful  heads,  was  adorned  with  deli- 
cate wreaths  of  myrtle. 

Preceding  the  stately  procession,  the  musicians  trav- 
ersed the  embowered  galleries,  entering  at  last  by  a path 


324 


Iskander 


hidden  by  shrubs,  the  oblong  space  set  apart  for  the  ban- 
quet in  the  center  of  the  great  court.  In  adornment  of 
this,  waving  palms  and  tropical  plants  and  flowers  of  bril- 
liant hue  gave  to  the  enclosure  an  air  of  seclusion  truly 
sylvan.  At  one  side  a silken  canopy,  surmounted  by  a 
golden  crown,  was  raised  above  the  crimson  divan,  for 
the  King.  Back  of  this  the  royal  pages,  having  the  privi- 
lege of  dining  with  the  monarch,  were  provided  a place 
partially  hidden  by  the  luxuriant  foliage.  About  the 
edge  of  the  open  space,  half  concealed  by  the  wealth  of 
shrubs  and  brilliant  flowers,  silver  lamps  filled  with  per- 
fumed oil,  and  huge  bronze  pots  containing  Pierian  pitch 
cast  a mellow  light  over  the  attractive  scene.  To  give 
greater  effect  to  the  dazzling  picture  the  lofty  balconies 
of  the  palace  were  left  in  darkness,  except  as  the  soft  light 
of  the  moon  and  flaming  torches  placed  far  apart,  served 
in  some  measure  to  illuminate  the  gloomy  enclosure.  Thus 
those  who  looked  down  could  see  without  being  seen, 
except  imperfectly,  like  phantoms  peering  forth,  or  shad- 
ows flitting  hither  and  thither. 

Long  ere  the  feast  was  called  or  darkness  had  set  in, 
the  balconies  were  filled  with  the  expectant  guests,  prome- 
nading back  and  forth  awaiting  the  great  event.  Of  these 
some  were  without  disguise  of  any  kind,  while  others 
wore  masks  or  were  dressed  in  such  curious  and  fantastic 
garb  as  their  ingenuity  suggested.  Moving  uneasily  back 
and  forth  or  standing  still,  striving  to  make  out  the  iden- 
tity of  those  who  passed,  the  semi-twilight,  distorting  the 
silent  figures,  gave  to  the  scene  a weird  and  barbaric  as- 
pect, menacing  rather  than  enlivening.  In  the  midst  of 
the  revelers  a group  of  ladies,  dressed  in  the  brilliant  cos- 


325 


The  Historical  Banquet  of  Philip 

tumes  of  the  Persian  court,  slowly  promenaded  the 
crowded  balconies.  In  their  midst  and  wearing  a re- 
splendent tiara,  the  Persian  Queen  received  the  adoration 
and  homage  of  those  about  her.  Keeping  ever  near  her, 
as  if  curious,  a woman,  old  and  crippled,  disguised  as  a 
priestess  of  Dodona,  followed,  telling  the  fortunes  of 
those  who  cared  to  listen.  To  add  a tinge  of  levity  to  the 
scene,  mountebanks  and  clowns  with  distorted  features, 
or  the  faces  of  hideous  animals,  rushed  here  and  there 
with  subdued  cries,  or  perched  themselves  on  conspicuous 
places  of  vantage. 

When  some  time  had  passed  and  the  air  of  curiosity 
had  given  place  to  one  of  impatience,  the  music  of  trum- 
pet, flute  and  fife,  sounding  clear  and  musical  from  the 
court  below,  announced  the  coming  of  the  revelers.  In 
honor,  beside  the  King,  as  the  procession  emerged  into 
the  open  space.  Attains  walked.  Not  with  the  haughty 
and  assured  brow  that  he  usually  wore,  but  as  if  the  dig- 
nity were  unsought  and  of  doubtful  expediency.  Delayed 
by  his  journey,  Alexander  followed  behind,  alone,  with 
absent  manner  and  melancholy  visage.  A short  crimson 
cloak  enveloped  his  shoulders  and  partly  hid  the  resplend- 
ent coat  of  Sicilian  cloth  embroidered  in  gold  that  he 
wore  beneath.  On  his  head  he  wore  the  Kausia,  sur- 
mounted by  the  waving  white  ostrich  feathers  which  in 
the  years  to  follow  were  to  become  the  oriflamme  of  his 
devoted  soldiers.  As  he  came  slowly  on  those  who 
looked  with  friendly  eyes  sighed  when  they  saw  his 
troubled  face,  knowing  full  well  the  anguish  that  filled 
his  heart. 

As  the  King  reclined  upon  the  royal  divan,  placed 


326 


I skander 


somewhat  above  the  others,  it  was  seen  by  those  who 
watched  that  his  face  was  already  deeply  flushed  with 
wine.  Motioning  Attains  to  occupy  the  couch  at  his  left, 
the  Persian  Ambassadors  were  shown  with  stately  cere- 
mony to  those  reserved  for  them  upon  his  right.  Beyond 
them,  in  an  obscure  place,  half  concealed  by  overhanging 
palms,  the  scholar  and  teacher  Aristotle  reclined  amid  the 
gallants  of  the  court.  Abstracted  in  manner,  he  seemed 
not  to  know  where  he  was,  his  pale  face  and  luminous 
eyes  turned  upward  toward  the  star-lit  sky,  appeared  as 
if  seeking  the  solution  of  some  weighty  problem.  Ad- 
vancing to  the  center  of  the  open  space,  Alexander 
gravely  saluted  the  King  and  afterwards  his  old  instruc- 
tors, Lysimachus  and  the  princely  Leonidas.  But  Aris- 
totle, inattentive,  absorbed  in  thought,  neither  saw  nor 
heeded  his  kindly  greeting.  Glancing  about  him,  the  sor- 
rowing Prince  saw  few  of  his  friends,  and  knowing  the 
slight  could  not  have  occurred  by  chance,  an  angry  frown 
crimsoned  his  fair  face.  Standing  irresolute  for  a mo- 
ment, Clitus,  making  deep  obeisance,  conducted  him  to  a 
couch  opposite  the  King,  himself  and  the  faithful  Eu- 
menes  occupying  those  on  either  side. 

All  being  now  placed,  silver  basins  filled  with  per- 
fumed water  were  presented  to  the  guests,  in  which  to 
lave  their  hands;  these  being  succeeded  by  napkins  of 
snow  white  linen.  The  guests  having  thus  cleansed  their 
hands,  the  usual  sacrifice  was  offered,  followed  by  liba- 
tions of  wine.  This  being  completed  and  the  feast  being 
next  in  order,  the  hungry  guests  dipped  into  the  dishes 
l)efore  them  without  ceremony  or  word  of  any  kind.  Say- 
ing some  graceful  thing  to  the  Persian  nobles  and  others 


The  Historical  Banquet  of  Philip  327 

about  him,  the  King  barely  touched  the  food  before  him, 
but  impatiently  motioned  the  cup-bearer  to  fill  his  empty 
goblet.  This  being  the  signal,  soon  the  cups  of  all  were 
filled  with  the  golden  wine,  whereupon  each  guest  rose  to 
his  feet  and  inclining  his  head  in  graceful  obeisance  to 
the  King  emptied  his  goblet  at  a draught.  Everyone  being 
in  a mood  to  eat,  and  the  ceremony  simple  in  the  extreme, 
the  courses  of  the  banquet  were  served  in  quick  succes- 
sion. These  were  accompanied  with  the  soft  music  of 
the  lyre  and  lute  or  the  more  strident  tones  of  the  inspir- 
ing harp.  Presently  the  appetites  of  the  guests  being 
somewhat  appeased,  their  spirits  were  enlivened  by  the 
wanton  performances  of  half-nude  dancing  girls,  to  the 
sound  of  tambourine  and  castanet.  These  tiring,  strolling 
players  with  faces  stained  with  lees  or  covered  with 
masks,  chanted  their  comic  parts  or  recited  their  melan- 
choly lays.  Giving  way  in  their  turn,  mountebanks  and 
tumblers  went  through  their  allotted  parts  amidst  the  ap- 
plause or  derisive  cries  of  the  half-drunken  revelers.  As 
the  evening  advanced  and  the  King  and  those  about  him 
became  enlivened  by  the  heavy  wine,  laughter  and  loud 
talk  succeeded  the  sober  demeanor  that  characterized  the 
earlier  stages  of  the  feast.  Philip,  who  seemed  not  in 
good  temper,  was  not  sparing  in  what  he  said,  but  spurred 
everyone  to  such  lively  exhibition  of  temper  or  jollity  as 
his  varying  moods  suggested. 

“Good  friends,  why  can  not  men  whatever  be  their 
nationality  dwell  together  in  peace  and  amity  as  do  these 
savage  dogs  ?”  he  at  last  cried,  smiling  upon  the  Persian 
nobles  as  he  threw  morsels  of  meat  to  the  Molossian 
hounds  that  stood  watching  him  expectantly. 


328 


Iskander 


“Greed  or  fear  alone  stand  in  the  way,  oh  King,"  Ox- 
yartes  answered  amiably,  thinking  of  the  threatening  war 
between  Persia  and  Macedonia. 

“A  good  reason  and  all  in  favor  of  the  dogs,”  Clitus, 
whom  the  events  of  the  day  had  grieved  and  angered,  re- 
sponded in  a loud  voice.  “Yet  I hate  them  except  when 
they  tear  down  the  antlered  buck  or  bait  the  savage  boar. 
At  other  times  they  have  too  much  the  cringing  habits  of 
men.” 

“You  slander  the  brutes,  Clitus.  Nothing  could  be  more 
noble  than  the  bearing  and  faces  of  these  animals,”  the 
King  responded,  fondling  the  hound  nearest  him. 

“A  crust  ennobles  and  tames  them,  oh  King,  as  it  does 
the  hangers-on  about  the  courts  of  kings,”  Clitus  an- 
swered in  no  pleasant  voice,  looking  around  upon  the 
followers  of  Attains. 

“We  could  forgive  your  hatred  of  dogs,  Clitus,  if  your 
heart  softened  more  to  the  seductive  wiles  of  women,” 
the  King  answered  good  naturedly. 

“I  do  not  know,  oh  King,  never  having  been  much 
tempted,”  Clitus  answered  foolishly. 

“Nor  will  you  be,  good  friend,  for  women  love  not  in- 
attentive eyes,”  the  King  answered,  scanning  the  face  of 
the  old  soldier  with  a kindly  smile.  “Your  scarred  fea- 
tures they  would  gladly  overlook,  if  you  were  but  more 
appreciative  of  their  beauty.” 

“My  scars  should  recommend  me  to  their  favor,  oh 
King,  for  I got  them  every  one  in  your  glorious  service.” 

“It  were  a good  recommendation,  Clitus,  if  you  did  not 
lack  soft  speech  and  the  sensibility  of  love.  It  is  a fatal 
fault.  Men  like  horses  and  dogs  because  of  companion- 


329 


The  Historical  Banquet  of  Philip 

ship,  but  love  and  adore  women  because  they  have  to 
and  so  tell  them,”  the  King  answered,  filling  his  cup  and 
holding  it  up  as  if  toasting  the  absent  Cleopatra.  “How 
comes  it,  oh  Lysimachus,”  he  went  on  presently,  his  mood 
changing,  as  he  observed  the  poor  pedagogue  still  intent 
upon  filling  his  stomach,  “that  while  no  one  in  the  king- 
dom is  so  ready  as  you  with  his  fingers  when  the  pot  is 
brought,  yet  you  have  scarce  meat  enough  on  your  bones 
to  feed  a hawk.” 

“It  is  because  of  the  dual  office  he  fills,  oh  King,”  At- 
tains interposed,  “for  his  brain  absorbs  what  goes  to 
nourish  the  bodies  of  other  men.  And  in  his  case,  be- 
ing a teacher,”  he  went  on  with  a sneer,  “he  must  think 
for  both  himself  and  his  callow  pupil.” 

“His  callow  pupil,  vain  man!”  Clitus  cried  in  a rage, 
“lacks  not  ability  to  think  for  himself  nor  strength  to 
punish  those  who  deride  him,  as  you  will  find  out  in  due 
time.” 

“Nor  is  that  the  only  burden  the  pedant  bears,”  Amyn- 
tas  interposed  derisively,  disregarding  Clitus’  speech,  “for 
beneath  his  ill-fitting  jacket  and  shrunken  form  another 
man  than  he  must  be  nourished.” 

“Who  may  that  be,  noble  Prince?”  the  King  cried  in 
response,  highly  entertained  at  the  turn  the  speech  had 
taken. 

“Who  think  ye,  oh  King,  but  Phcenix,  the  precursor  of 
Achilles,”  Amyntas  answered  with  a laugh. 

“Does  the  simpleton  still  cherish  that  delusion?”  the 
King  asked  in  an  angry  voice,  his  heart  filled  with  jeal- 
ousy of  Alexander.  “If  what  he  avers  be  true,  then  I,  the 
father  of  Achilles,  must  needs  already  be  put  aside  or 


330  Iskander 

dwell  among  the  dead  and  so  be  of  no  further  use  to 
men.” 

“So  it  would  seem  from  his  boastings  and*  the  encour- 
agement it  receives,”  Amyntas  answered  with  heightened 
voice.  “See,  oh  King,  he  heeds  us  not;  hut  hungry  still, 
dips  to  the  very  bottom  of  the  steaming  dish  to  pick  some 
tender  morsel  thence  to  glut  his  ravenous  appetite.” 

“Nor  is  his  body  less  busy  than  his  hands,  but  works 
back  and  forth  like  the  terrible  constrictor,  that  he  may 
the  sooner  empty  his  throat  for  what  is  to  follow,”  At- 
tains cried,  glancing  at  Alexander,  amid  the  laughter  of 
those  about  him. 

“ ’Tis  said  he  accustoms  his  fingers  to  boiling  water 
that  he  may  reach  deep  and  long  into  the  steaming  dishes 
while  others  wait  in  idleness,”  Amyntas  responded  iron- 
ically. 

“Who  can  doubt  it  unless  the  dirt  on  his  hands  prove 
the  contrary.  For  true  it  is  that  his  fingers  are  ever  first 
to  find  the  succulent  piece  in  every  dish,  leaving  others 
the  less  savory  parts  for  their  share,”  Attains  cried  in 
scornful  mirth. 

“It  is  better  for  the  country  that  he  have  his  fingers 
deep  in  the  stew,  than  in  the  King’s  treasury,  as  is  truly 
said  of  those  who  scoff  at  him,”  Alexander  cried,  arous- 
ing himself  and  referring  to  Attains’  well-known  greed. 
“Nor  is  it  seemly  in  nobles  so  exalted  to  load  an  honest 
and  inferior  man  with  ridicule  for  fools  to  laugh  at,”  he 
concluded  raising  his  head  aloft  and  flashing  a look  of 
coiitempt  on  those  who  ridiculed  the  harmless  old  man. 

“No,  not  if  the  deserving  man  has  perchance  discov- 
ered some  strong  resemblance  in  an  exalted  person  to  the 


331 


The  Historical  Banquet  of  Philip 

chivalrous  Achilles,”  Attalus  answered  in  his  biting  way. 
“Nay,  I crave  pardon,  illustrious  Prince,  if  I have  of- 
fended. But  absurd  things  sometimes  come  tripping  into 
our  thoughts  unbidden,  and  so  it  is  with  regard  to  Lysi- 
machus  and  his  silly  delusion.” 

“While  you  talk  your  cups  are  empty  and  the  wine 
skins  sweat  or  overflow  on  the  thirsty  floor,”  the  King- 
cried,  holding  out  his  cup  to  be  filled.  “Drink,  all  of  you 
and  be  merry  while  Antipater,  lost  to  every  virtue,  keeps 
guard  about  the  brimming  horn.  Come,  Amyntas,  master 
of  the  feast,  let  not  the  dancing  girls  pine  longer  in  ob- 
scurity. Bring  them  forth  again  that  we  may  view  their 
generous  limbs  and  revel  in  their  amorous  glances  ere 
our  eyes,  dulled  with  wine,  can  no  longer  discern  the  lean 
from  the  fat,”  and  placing  his  drinking  cup  of  solid  gold, 
in  shape  and  size  like  a bull’s  horn,  to  his  lips,  the  King 
emptied  it  at  a draught. 

Amyntas  thus  instructed  beckoned  the  half-clad  danc- 
ers to  approach  near  to  the  King  that  his  fading  senses 
might  feel  their  warmth  and  enlivening  presence.  The 
musicians,  too,  responding  with  energy  to  their  office,  the 
blare  of  the  brazen  trumpet  and  the  softer  strains  of  pipe 
and  flute  presently  created  such  noise  and  confusion  that 
speech  of  every  kind  was  for  the  moment  silenced.  Mo- 
tioning them  after  a while  to  cease,  the  King  turned  to 
Oxyartes  and  thinking  to  say  some  pleasant  word,  ex- 
claimed : 

“You  find  our  fare  meager,  noble  Prince,  but  if  our 
food  be  heavy  the  wine  is  also  strong,  and  therein  we 
make  some  amends  to  our  guests.  In  drinking,  though,  as 
in  every  agreeable  vice,  we  are  but  novices  beside  your 
noble  race.” 


332 


Iskander 


^‘It  would  be  an  unpardonable  offense,  oh  King,  to  al- 
low you  to  deny  your  greater  excellence  in  that  as  in 
every  other  thing  worthy  the  regard  of  men,’'  Oxyartes 
answered,  rising  and  bowing  to  the  King. 

‘‘Tut,  tut!  We  are  but  just  born  and  have  everything 
to  learn  from  the  children  of  the  great  King.  And,  as 
in  other  things,  and  therein  is  the  pity,  he  shames  his 
royal  brother  in  the  number  and  glory  of  his  wives.  But 
'tis  a thing  that  may  be  made  good,”  the  King  went  on 
with  maudlin  humor,  “and  so  I may  hope  to  remedy  it 
with  age  and  greater  opportunity.” 

“It  is  a privilege  much  commended  in  Persia,  oh  King, 
and  worthy  of  being  followed  elsewhere  by  the  enlight- 
ened rulers  o-f  the  world,”  Mithrines  interposed  with 
malicious  humor. 

“It  is  a custom  more  fit  for  animals  than  men,”  hic- 
coughed Lysimachus,  overcome  with  drink.  “Kings 
should  be  content  with  one  wife.  All  others — ” But 
some  one  pulling  him  back  on  his  couch  ere  he  could 
complete  the  sentence,  the  old  man  presently  fell  forward 
in  a drunken  stupor. 

The  King  not  hearing  or  not  wishing  to  hear  went  on : 

“Yes,  noble  Mithrines,  the  custom  commends  itself  and 
I shall  not  fail  to  set  a good  example  in  respect  of  it  to 
my  successor,”  and  lifting  his  cup  he  drained  it  to  the 
bottom. 

“The  great  King  will  feel  honored  and  flattered  by 
your  commendation,”  Mithrines  cried  in  a loud  voice, 
emptying  his  goblet  in  response. 

“The  custom  is  as  old  as  the  monarchy  in  Macedonia, 
and  tlie  gracious  consort  our  mighty  King  has  this  day 


333 


The  Historical  Banquet  of  Philip 

taken  to  himself  evinces  its  present  strength  and  wis- 
dom/’ Amyntas  interposed,  glancing  scornfully  at  Alex- 
ander, who  seemed  neither  to  notice  nor  hear  what  was 
going  on  about  him. 

The  King,  worn  with  the  events  of  the  day  and  con- 
scious of  his  growing  intoxication,  now  raised  himself 
and  holding  his  drinking  cup  aloft  cried  in  a thick  voice : 

“I  propose  to  you  exalted  Persians  and  you  my  brave 
comrades  and  faithful  subjects  the  happiness  and  long 
life  of  her  exalted  majesty,  the  beautiful  and  ever  gra- 
cious Queen,  Cleopatra.” 

Responding  with  one  accord  the  guests  rose  to  their 
feet,  the  friends  of  Cleopatra  emptying  their  cups  amid 
mutual  congratulations  and  clamorous  cries.  When  some 
quiet  was  at  last  restored  Attalus  sitting  bolt  upright  on 
his  couch  cried  in  a loud  voice  so  that  those  who  watched 
from  the  gallery  could  plainly  hear : 

“In  acclaiming  Her  Majesty  the  august  Queen,  Cleo- 
patra, oh  King,  the  nation  hope  and  believe  that  through 
her  w'e  may  at  last  be  blessed  with  a legitimate  heir  to  the 
throne  of  Macedonia,”  and  holding  out  his  goblet  to  be 
filled  he  gazed  across  at  Alexander  with  a look  of  undis- 
guised hatred. 

Attalus’  bitter  and  insulting  speech  was  followed  for  a 
moment  by  the  silence  of  death.  Then  Alexander,  his 
wine  untouched,  springing  to  his  feet,  cried  in  a voice 
of  thunder; 

“Do  you  call  me  a bastard,  you  cringing  dog!”  and 
lifting  his  goblet  with  the  words,  he  hurled  it  full  in  At- 
tains’ face.  “Thus  I answer  all  who  traduce  my  mother, 
the  Queen,  or  seek  to  cast  dishonor  on  her  son,”  and 


334 


Iskander 


drawing  his  sword  he  would  have  killed  Attains  on  the 
spot.  But  the  King  rising  to  his  feet,  his  face  distorted 
with  passion  and  drink,  cried  out  in  the  rude  dialect  of 
the  Macedonian  shepherds : 

“Is  it  thus,  presumptuous  Prince,  that  you  defy  your 
King  and  insult  by  word  and  deed  those  he  honors?” 
and  di'awing  his  sword  he  started  to  strike  Alexander 
down.  But  tripping  on  the  lion  skin  that  covered  the 
steps  of  the  raised  platform,  he  fell  to  the  floor  in  a faint, 
weakened  by  his  wounds  and  intoxication. 

As  the  King  advanced  Alexander  drew  back,  not  wish- 
ing to  appear  to  contend  with  him  no  matter  what  his 
purpose.  But  ere  he  could  sheath  his  weapon  Amyntas 
and  those  about  him  raised  the  fateful  cry  “Treason, 
Treason,”  and  drawing  their  swords,  rushed  forward  in 
a body  to  attack  the  Prince.  With  the  cry  and  by  precon- 
certed movement  the  lights  about  the  open  place  were 
extinguished,  leaving  the  court  in  darkness  save  as  the 
moon  and  the  torches  from  above  served  in  some  measure 
to  distinguish  the  movements  of  those  present.  Seeing 
the  King  fall  Alexander  hurried  forward  to  lift  him  up, 
and  doing  so,  saw  Pausanias  advancing  upon  the  stricken 
monarch  with  upraised  dagger.  Observing  this  and  not- 
ing the  extinguishment  of  the  lights,  it  flashed  upon  him 
that  what  was  transpiring  was  not  the  result  of  chance, 
but  the  culmination  of  a plot  to  destroy  both  the  King  and 
himself.  Springing  forward  and  raising  aloft  his  sword, 
he  gave  utterance  to  the  well-known  cry : 

“For  the  King!  For  the  King!” 

Clitus  observing  the  concerted  movement  and  also  di- 
vining the  conspiracy,  cried  out  hastily : 


335 


The  Historical  Banquet  of  Philip 

“A  plot!  A plot!”  rushing  forward  at  the  same  time 
with  Eumenes  and  Leonidas  to  the  Prince’s  aid. 

Well  it  was  Alexander’s  sword  was  in  his  hand,  else 
he  had  been  killed  ere  he  could  have  released  it  from  the 
scabbard.  Parrying  the  thrusts  of  his  enemies  as  he  ad- 
vanced, he  struck  Pausajiias  down  with  the  flat  of  his 
sword  as  the  latter  came  forward,  half  creeping,  half- 
running with  uplifted  dagger.  Alexander’s  companions 
pushing  their  way  to  his  side,  now  formed  a circle  of 
flaring  swords  about  the  stricken  King.  But  Amyntas 
and  his  party,  nothing  daunted,  continued  to  attack  them 
on  every  side,  crying  the  while  “Treason ! treason  ! To 
the  King’s  rescue!” 

Thus  in  a moment  the  fierce  cries  of  angry  combatants 
and  the  resounding  clash  of  steel  on  steel  took  the  place 
of  the  hitherto  peaceful  revelry.  Standing  undaunted 
beside  the  unconscious  King  the  weapons  of  Alexander 
and  his  friends  flashed  back  and  forth  in  the  dim  light  as 
they  struck  down  or  warded  off  the  swords  of  those  who 
opposed  them.  In  this  way  the  strife  continued  amid 
fierce  cries  and  imprecations,  until  Antipater,  hearing  the 
uproar,  hastily  collecting  a body  of  soldiers,  rushed  in  and 
put  an  end  to  the  struggle. 

Thus,  through  the  accident  to  the  King,  a thing  all  un- 
forseen,  the  carefully  planned  conspiracy  of  Amyntas 
and  his  friends  came  to  naught. 

While  Antipater  busied  himself  removing  the  King, 
and  as  if  to  add  greater  stress  to  the  turmoil,  the  sharp 
agonizing  cry  of  a woman  rang  out  on  the  gloomy  court. 
Scarce  had  it  ceased  when  a slave  emerging  from  the  pal- 
ace with  a flaming  torch,  disclosed  the  terror-stricken 


336 


I skander 


women  of  the  Persian  embassy  grouped  about  the  pros- 
trate form  of  one  of  their  number.  Looking  up  and  fear- 
ing some  harm  to  the  Princess  Sylvia,  he  knew  not  why, 
Alexander  hurriedly  left  his  companions  and  mounting 
the  stairs  ran  to  the  scene  of  commotion.  Reaching  the 
spot  he  was  terror-stricken  to  discover  the  prostrate  form 
of  her  who  personated  the  Persian  Queen,  lying  motion- 
less on  the  wide  balcony.  Kneeling  down  with  a sob  of 
anguish  in  his  throat,  knowing  full  well  what  he  would 
find,  he  started  back  with  a cry  of  horror  to  discover  the 
gentle  and  inoffensive  Princess  already  dead.  Tearing 
apart,  in  a frenzy,  the  garments  that  covered  her  breast, 
a deep  wound  above  the  heart  showed  all  too  clearly  how 
she  had  met  her  fate.  Turning  in  rage  and  grief  to  those 
who  stood  looking  on  with  wonder  and  affright,  he  cried 
in  a loud  voice: 

‘Who  has  done  this  foul  murder?  Why  do  you  not 
answer?  Speak!  Point  out  the  cruel  fiend!’’  he  went 
on,  scanning  the  faces  of  those  about  him,  as  no  one 
stirred. 

At  last,  one  of  the  attendants  regaining  her  voice,  an- 
swered with  a shudder : 

“We  do  not  know,  oh  Prince;  but  as  we  stood  intently 
watching  the  strife  below  an  old  woman  pushed  her  way 
forward,  and  reaching  the  side  of  the  poor  Princess, 
plunged  a dagger  in  her  bosom.” 

“Where  is  she?  Bring  her  before  me,”  Alexander 
cried,  looking  about  him  in  dismay. 

“We  know  not  whence  she  fled,  oh  Prince,  for  imme- 
diately the  blow  was  struck  she  turned  and  disappeared 
in  the  darkness,  no  one  thinking  to  follow  or  hinder  her.” 


337 


The  Historical  Banquet  of  Philip 

Disappointed  at  the  escape  of  the  assassin  but  knowing 
full  well  from  whence  the  blow  had  come,  Alexander  bent 
over  and  kissed  Sylvia’s  cold  cheek,  murmuring  amid  the 
sobs  that  filled  his  throat:  “Alas,  poor  stricken  child,  in 
your  thoughtless  gayety  you  have  met  the  cruel  death  de- 
signed for  another  as  innocent  as  you  of  harm  to  any 
one.” 

Long  he  continued  to  gaze  upon  the  face  of  his  mur- 
dered  sister,  the  events  of  the  day  passing  in  sad  review 
before  his  dimmed  eyes.  But  at  last  lifting  the  body 
tenderly  in  his  arms  he  placed  it  upon  the  couch  which 
slaves  had  hurriedly  brought.  Covering  it  with  his  crim- 
son cloak  he  walked  beside  the  dead  Princess  as  the  at- 
tendants bore  the  body  towards  her  apartments.  Travers- 
ing the  long  galleries  of  the  fortress  their  progress  was 
stayed  by  the  Queen  as  she  sought  with  her  attendants 
to  pass  in  an  opposite  direction,  toward  the  rooms  of  the 
King.  Seeing  Alexander  approach  with  the  slaves  bear- 
ing the  dead  body,  the  Queen,  affrighted  and  confused  at 
the  unexpected  meeting,  sought  to  pass  on  without  stop- 
ping. But  Alexander  motioning  the  attendants  to  put 
down  their  burden  approached  Cleopatra,  exclaiming  in 
a voice  broken  by  emotion: 

“Stay  your  steps,  in  passing,  to  breathe  a prayer  beside 
the  body  of  her  who  lies  yonder  stricken  to  death.” 

“Are  you  serious,  good  Prince,  or  is  it  some  masquer- 
ading pleasantry  of  the  banquet  ?”  she  answered,  striving 
to  smile. 

“ ’Tis  no  pleasantry,  for  death  is  most  serious  and  she 
is  dead.” 

“I  knew  not  before  that  such  a thing  had  happened. 


338 


Iskander 


’Twill  greatly  shock  the  King,  already  ill,”  she  replied, 
striving  to  appear  calm.  “Was  it  some  incident  of  the 
festival,  growing  out  of  the  strife,  or  did  it  come  in  the 
natural  sequence  of  life?” 

“She  was  murdered,  and  causelessly,  by  some  monster 
in  the  guise  of  woman,  void  of  heart  or  sensibility,”  he 
cried,  keeping  his  gaze  fixed  upon  the  agitated  face  of 
the  Queen. 

“ ’Tis  impossible  such  a crime  could  have  been  com- 
mitted here  amid  the  vast  throng.  ’Twas  her  own  act. 
It  must  have  been,”  she  answered  resolutely. 

“No,  those  with  her  saw  the  blow  and  noted  the  flight 
of  the  assassin,”  he  answered  sternly. 

“The  assassin !”  she  exclaimed  with  a shudder.  “What 
was  she  like?” 

“The  same  as  you  in  height,”  he  responded,  dwelling 
on  the  words.  “But  being  masked  and  otherwise  dis- 
guised, they  could  make  out  nothing  further.  But  come 
nearer,  that  you  may  look  upon  the  face  of  the  poor  child 
and  pay  her  the  tribute  of  a sigh,”  and  grasping  her  by 
the  arm  he  dragged  her  to  the  side  of  the  bier. 

“No,  no,”  she  cried,  affrighted,  holding  back.  “Not 
now,  not  now.  Tomorrow  will  do  as  well.  Now  I am 
called  to  the  side  of  the  King,  who  may  be  dying,”  she 
went  on,  striving  to  free  herself. 

“Yes,  now  and  here,  for  tomorrow  will  not  do.  Be- 
hold the  grievous  spectacle,”  and  with  the  words  he  threw 
back  the  cloak,  disclosing  the  face  of  the  dead  Princess. 
“See!”  he  went  on  in  a low  voice,  “’twas  not  Roxana 
the  assassin  struck,  as  she  thought,  but  Sylvia,  the  King’s 
child.” 


339 


The  Historical  Banquet  of  Philip 

Gasping  in  terror  at  his  words  her  eyes  unconsciously 
sought  the  white  face  of  the  murdered  woman.  Stricken 
to  the  heart  and  trembling  in  every  limb  Cleopatra  turned 
and  would  have  fled ; but  her  strength  failing,  she  threw 
out  her  hands  as  if  to  put  away  the  horrid  spectacle,  and 
murmuring  a cry  fell  prostrate  at  Alexander’s  feet.  Call- 
ing to  her  attendants  to  come  to  her  aid,  Alexander,  bid- 
ding the  slaves  take  up  the  dead  body,  proceeded  without 
further  happening  to  the  apartments  of  the  stricken  Prin- 
cess. 

Thus  terminated  the  memorable  banquet  of  Philip  of 
which  historians  have  never  failed  to  make  some  note  in 
their  account  of  this  great  monarch.  For  it  was  here, 
it  seemed,  that  the  first  breach  between  Philip  and  Alex- 
ander occurred. 


1 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

THE  LEES  OF  THE  WINE. 

Forming  the  soldiers  about  the  prostrate  monarch  Anti- 
pater placed  him  upon  a couch  and  so  bore  him  to  his 
chamber,  the  conspirators  following  with  drawn  swords 
as  if  fearful  the  King  should  be  further  attacked.  Plac- 
ing the  King  upon  his  bed,  restoratives  were  applied,  fol- 
lowed by  a steaming  bath.  Meanwhile  the  conspirators, 
forming  a circle  about  the  prostrate  King,  impatiently 
awaited  his  recovery.  Nor  had  they  long  to  wait,  for  the 
sturdy  monarch,  quickly  overcoming  his  weakness,  lay  at 
his  ease,  listening  to  what  was  said  by  those  who  sur- 
rounded his  couch.  At  last,  raising  himself  and  scanning 
the  faces  of  those  about  him,  he  motioned  Attains  to  ap- 
proach. 

“What  is  this  they  babble  about  an  attempt  on  my 
life  while  I,  borne  down  by  wounds,  lay  stunned  by  my 
fall?”  the  King  asked  in  a weak  voice,  passing  his  hand 
over  his  eyes  as  if  they  were  still  clouded  with  the  fumes 
of  wine. 

“Whatever  you  may  have  heard,  oh  King,  it  cannot 
have  exaggerated  the  peril  you  were  in,”  Attains  replied 
in  a constrained  voice. 

“What  peril,  and  from  whence,  for  I saw  nothing?  Or 
if  there  was  some  feeling  while  we  feasted  it  was  not 
out  of  the  ordinary  among  the  turbulent  and  jealous 
Princes.” 


(340) 


The  Lees  of  the  Wine 


341 


“In  this  case,  oh  King,  weapons  were  drawn  and  the 
cry  of  treason  raised  as  your  friends  rushed  in  to  save 
you  from  death.” 

“To  save  me  from  death!  Was  it  as  serious  as  that, 
Attalus?  Who  were  the  friends  to  whom  I am  indebted 
for  the  service?”  the  King  responded,  somewhat  sharply, 
as  if  loth  to  believe  what  the  other  said. 

“There  were  many,  oh  King,  but  some,  more  ready 
than  the  others,  rushed  forward,  in  peril  of  their  lives, 
so  deadly  was  the  conflict  about  your  prostrate  body.” 

“Who  were  they,  Attalus?  I thought  every  one  my 
friend,  for  even  those  most  aggrieved  by  the  state  have 
received  nothing  but  kindness  at  my  hands,”  the  King 
answered  in  a troubled  voice,  passing  his  hand  wearily 
across  his  brow. 

“Your  forbearance  has  been  as  generous  as  it  has  been 
unexampled  in  the  annals  of  Kings.  In  return  the  Princes 
favored  by  you  have  now  reoaid  your  kindness  at  the  risk 
of  their  lives.” 

“If  what  you  say  be  true,  why  do  you  not  name  them  ? 
Surely  it  is  not  a thing  to  be  ashamed  of.  Come  to  the 
point,  Attalus,  and  that  quickly,”  the  King  exclaimed, 
with  heightened  voice. 

“If  I do  not  name  them,  oh  King,  it  is  because  I am 
loth  to  grieve  you  by  distinguishing  between  your  friends 
and  enemies  where  all  have  been  trusted,”  he  answered 
evading  the  King’s  command. 

“Quick!  their  names,  Attalus,  ere  I force  you  at  the 
point  of  my  sword,”  the  King  cried  in  a frenzy,  reaching 
for  his  weapon,  which  lay  on  a chair  beside  his  couch. 

At  this  Attalus,  as  if  alarmed  at  the  other’s  threat,  re- 
plied : 


342 


I skander 


“Know  then,  oh  King,  if  you  compel  me  to  do  that 
which  I would  fain  avoid,  they  were  Amyntas,  Pausanias 
and  the  Lincestian  Princes,  all  of  kingly  line.  Coming 
to  their  aid  many  others  fought  not  less  bravely  by  their 
side.” 

“All  you  have  named  owe  me  the  favor  of  their  lives, 
for  each  has  some  claim  to  the  throne,  and  sO'  his  life  is 
forfeit  to  me,”  the  King  responded,  reflecting  on  what 
the  other  said.  “These  you  name  fought  for  their  King; 
whO',  then,  were  the  conspirators?  Alexander,  my  son, 
did  he  stand  idly  looking  on,  hoping  thus  to  find  an  open- 
ing to  the  throne?  And  Clitus,  too,  so  strong  of  arm,  did 
he  not  lift  his  hand?”  the  King  asked,  scarce  above  a 
whisper. 

“Yes,  those  you  name  were  active  with  their  swords, 
but  not  as  I had  thought,  in  defense  of  their  King,”  At- 
tains answered  with  downcast  head,  as  if  the  secret  thus 
torn  from  him  grieved  him  to  the  heart. 

“The  Gods  defend  us ! Were  they,  too,  among  the  con- 
spirators? Alexander,  my  son,  whom  I have  loved 
and  treasured ! And  Clitus,  whom  I have  ever  preferred 
above  others!”  the  King  exclaimed,  bowing  his  head  in 
shame. 

“Yes,  oh  King,  they  led  the  attack,  for  no  sooner  had 
you  fallen  and  the  lights  being  extinguished  as  they 
planned  than,  drawing  their  weapons,  they  would  have 
killed  you  where  you  lay  had  not  your  friends  beat  them 
off.  Nor  is  that  all,  oh  sorrowing  King,”  Attains  went 
on  as  if  bowed  down  with  grief;  “for  in  the  turmoil,  so 
it  appears,  your  daughter,  the  sweet  Princess  Sylvia,  was 
most  cruelly  murdered,  her  assailant  mistaking  her  for 
the  Queen.” 


The  Lees  of  the  Wine 


343 


“Sylvia,  my  little  Sylvia  murdered,  say  you!”  the  King 
cried  in  surprise  and  anguish,  falling  back  on  his  couch 
with  staring  eyes. 

“Yes,  oh  King,  and  most  cruelly,  as  she  looked  on  in 
fancied  security  from  the  heights  above.”  Attalus  an- 
swered sorrowfully. 

“Ye  Gods  1 What  offense  had  the  poor  child  committed 
that  she  should  have  been  thus  punished?”  the  King  mur- 
mured, covering  his  face  with  his  trembling  hands. 

“No  offense,  oh  King,  save  that  in  innocent  mirth  she 
personated  the  Persian  Queen  among  those  who  filled  the 
balconies  and  so  was  mistaken  for  Cleopatra,”  Attalus 
answered. 

“But  the  Princess  Roxana  was  to  have  personated  the 
Persian  Queen,  and  so  told  me,”  the  sorrowing  King  an- 
swered, bewildered. 

“So  it  was  to  have  been,  but  going  this  afternoon  to 
pay  a visit  to  the  Princess  Parcledes  it  was  whispered 
about  the  palace  that  the  Queen  was  to  take  her  place  in 
the  innocent  frolic.  Thus  Sylvia  has  fallen  a victim  in 
place  of  the  Queen,”  Amyntas  answered  with  confident  as- 
surance. 

“By  all  the  Gods  of  high  Olympus  such  murderous  in- 
tent is  past  the  belief  of  man,”  the  King  exclaimed,  arous- 
ing himself.  “I  will  not  leave  one  of  the  assassins  alive. 
No,  none  shall  escape  me,  however  exalted  his  rank!”  he 
went  on  with  ominous  reference  to  the  Prince.  “I  will 
have  them  confronted  with  the  child’s  naked  corpse  and 
so  force  confession  from  their  unwilling  mouths,  whether 
they  will  or  no,”  he  concluded,  his  superstitious  nature, 
in  its  sorrow,  reverting  to  the  ancient  and  revered  ordeal 
of  his  people. 


344 


Iskander 


“It  were  a useless  ceremony,  oh  King,  for  the  Prince 
and  those  he  has  perverted  think,  as  you  know,  but  lightly 
of  our  sacred  customs.  The  deed  is  but  a part  of  the  gen- 
eral plot  and  so  false-swearing  and  counter-accusations 
will  follow  as  a matter  of  course;  for  those,  oh  King, 
who  seek  to  strike  you  down  and  murder  your  Queen, 
are  as  indifferent  to  oaths  as  they  are  to  the  lives  of 
men,”  Attains  answered,  as  if  there  could  be  no  doubt  of 
the  guilt  of  the  accused. 

“I  will  look  into  it,  and  death,  swift  and  terrible,  shall 
be  the  fate  of  the  assassins,”  the  King  answered  with 
grim  ferocity. 

At  this  moment  Antipater  approaching,  Philip  turned 
to  him  in  anger,  exclaiming : 

“Were  you,  too>  one  of  my  assailants,  that  you  should 
have  been  so  conveniently  absent  when  my  life  hung  in 
the  balance?  Answer  me,  for  as  you  know  it  is  to  your 
watchful  eyes  and  sober  head  that  I trust  my  body  and 
throne  when  seeking  reprieve  of  labor  in  the  frivolities 
of  the  court.” 

“I  am  neither  an  assassin  nor  an  abettor,  as  you  well 
know,  oh  King,”  Antipater  answered  resolutely.  “I  was 
absent  making  the  rounds  of  the  fortress,  and  so  saw 
nothing  of  what  occurred.” 

“Yes,  yes,  but  have  the  conspirators  been  put  under 
arrest?  Surely  this  should  have  been  done  ere  now,”  the 
King  queried  fretfully. 

“No,  oh  King,  for  there  was  such*  clatter  of  accusa- 
tion and  counter-accusation  that  I knew  not  what  to 
think,  but  finding  you  lying  helpless  I raised  you  in  my 
arms  and  brought  you  here.  Then  seeing  you  safe  and 


The  Lees  of  the  Wine 


345 


unharmed,  I left  you  to  look  to  the  security  of  the  for- 
tress,” Antipater  answered  simply.  “Attains  will  confirm 
all  I have  said,  and  if  he  will,  can  inform  you  of  every- 
thing that  occurred;  of  which  I know  nothing  what- 
ever.” 

“It  is  as  he  avers,  oh  King,”  Attains  interposed.  “He 
acted  as  is  his  wont,  with  promptness  and  fidelity,  and 
cannot  be  censured  in  any  way.” 

“That  I,  who  have  never  distrusted  those  about  me, 
should  be  threatened  while  feasting  with  my  friends  and 
in  the  presence  of  our  Persian  guests,  fills  me  more  with 
shame  than  fear,”  the  brave  King  answered  truly 
enough. 

“It  is  the  fate  of  Kings  to  be  ever  threatened,  and 
happy  the  monarch  who  has  loyal  friends  about  his  per- 
son to  frustrate  the  plots  of  his  enemies.  Tonight  those 
who  would  destroy  you  have  been  unsuccessful;  tomor- 
row they  may  be  more  fortunate  if  you  allow  them  un- 
constrained liberty,”  Attains  answered  insinuatingly. 

“Tonight  shall  see  them  all  under  guard,”  the  King 
responded,  flashing  a look  of  determination  on  those  pres- 
ent, “and  that  no  time  may  be  lost  you  will  at  once  con- 
vene a council  of  officers  to  try  them  and  pass  judgment 
on  their  acts.  And  that  no  formal  custom  may  be  omitted, 
see  that  the  verdict  is  approved  afterwards  by  the  com- 
mon soldiers,”  he  concluded  with  a bitter  smile. 

“I  will  lose  no  time  in  doing  as  you  command,  oh 
King,”  Attains  answered  with  avidity,  and  this  the  more 
readily  as  all  of  the  officers  present  were  in  the  main 
participants  in  the  conspiracy.  And  of  the  soldiers  in 
Pella  and  about  the  palace  he  felt  secure,  as  they  had 


346 


Iskander 


been  selected  with  a view  to  their  fidelity  to  his  interests 
at  this  important  juncture  of  affairs. 

“Lose  not  a moment.  If  I have  been  foolishly  indul- 
gent heretofore,  they  shall  find  me  not  lacking  in  severity 
now,”  the  King  exclaimed.  “But  where  is  the  Queen?” 
he  cried,  looking  about  and  noting  her  absence  for  the 
first  time.  “Was  she  not  apprised  of  my  illness  and  the 
attack  on  my  life?”  he  continued  angrily. 

“Yes,  oh  King,  for  I myself  sent  a page  to  tell  her,  and 
ere  he  left  she  made  ready  to  obey  the  summons,”  At- 
tains answered.  “I  know  not  the  cause  of  her  detention,” 
he  went  on,  anxiously  looking  about  him. 

“ ’Tis  simple  enough,  oh  King,  for  while  hastening 
to  your  side  she  was  met  and  detained  by  the  Prince.  I 
myself  saw  them,  and  when  she  would  have  put  him  off 
he  grasped  her  by  the  arm  and  so  detained  her  unwilling- 
ly. Until,  at  last,  frightened  by  his  speech  and  action, 
the  poor  Queen  fainted,  falling  to  the  ground  as  one 
dead,”  Amyntas  interposed  with  malicious  particularity, 
word  having  been  brought  him  of  the  interview  between 
Alexander  and  Cleopatra. 

“By  the  Gods,  this  is  too  much !”  the  King  cried,  his 
face  purple  with  rage.  “The  impudence  of  the  wretch 
surpasses  belief.  Was  it  not  enough  that  he  should  have 
sought  to  kill  me  but  he  must  now  place  my  Queen  in 
thralldom  ?”  he  went  on,  his  anger  increasing.  “Go,  At- 
tains, lose  not  a moment  in  placing  him  under  arrest. 
This  done,  assemble  the  court,  as  I have  said,  and  once 
the  verdict  is  reached  bring  it  to  me.  However  weak  I 
may  be,  however  decrepit  they  may  think  me,  I still  have 
strength  to  ai)prove  your  action.  There,  go,  it  were 


The  Lees  of  the  Wine 


347 


vain  to  plead  with  me,”  he  cried  with  savage  energy  as 
Attains  seemed  to  hesitate;  and  grieved  and  angered  be- 
yond power  of  speech,  the  poor  King  turned  his  face  to 
the  wall.  Seeing  this  the  conspirators  slowly  left  the 
room,  Attalus  bidding  the  guard  at  the  entrance  to  the 
King’s  room  to  deny  access  to  every  one  save  the  Queen. 


CHAPTER  XXVL 
Alexander's  flight  from  pella. 

Fearful  lest  the  King  should  change  his  mind,  Attains 
lost  no  time  in  dispatching  Lyncestes  and  a guard  to  ar- 
rest Alexander.  This  he  had  no  difficulty  in  accomplish- 
ing, for  on  his  explaining  that  it  was  the  King's  order 
the  Prince  delivered  up  his  sword,  too  much  overcome 
by  this  last  stroke  of  misfortune  to  protest  against  the 
outrage.  Afterwards,  upon  being  ushered  into  his  cell, 
he  was  surprised  and  his  heart  stirred  to  find  it  to  be 
that  reserved  for  condemned  prisoners  of  state.  To  con- 
firm this  and  as  if  to  invite  the  victim  to  prepare  for 
death,  a sacrificial  altar  stood  in  the  corner  of  the  room 
whereon  wood  was  laid  ready  to  be  lighted.  Beside  it 
bread  and  wine  was  placed  as  an  offering  and  a libation 
to  the  Gods.  Seeing  this,  and  overcome  by  what  had 
passed,  he  sank  down  on  the  stone  bench  that  ran  along 
the  side  of  the  narrow  cell.  While  sitting  thus  disconso- 
late meditating  on  what  had  occurred,  but  more  than  all 
thinking  of  Roxana,  a light  flashed  in  his  face,  and  look- 
ing up  he  beheld  Hephestion's  smiling  countenance. 
Springing  to  his  feet  in  glad  surprise  Alexander  cried 
out: 

‘‘You  here,  Hephestion?  Thrice  welcome!  It  is  like 
you,  when  everyone  seemed  to  have  abandoned  me,  to 
hasten  to  me  in  my  distress.'' 

(348) 


Alexander’s  Flight  from  Pella  349 

Throwing  himself  on  his  knees  and  kissing  Alexander’s 
hand,  Hephestion  answered,  tears  filling  his  eyes  at  the 
sad  situation  of  the  Prince; 

“Do  not  think  your  friends  have  abandoned  you,  but 
rather  that  your  enemies,  in  their  cunning,  have  driven 
them  away,  for  their  lives  and  swords  are  now,  as  in  the 
past,  at  your  disposal.” 

“Forgive  me,  sweet  friend,  ’twas  a thoughtless  speech,” 
Alexander  quickly  responded. 

“In  proof  of  what  I say,  if  proof  be  needed,  they  await 
you  armed  and  mounted,  at  the  temple  of  Minerva  to  aid 
you  in  your  flight.” 

“My  flight!  Has  the  King  changed  his  mind,  or  At- 
tains concluded  it  were  better  that  I were  somewhere  else, 
and  SO  connives  at  my  escape?” 

“No,  and  it  were  idle  to  expect  such  a thing,  oh  Prince. 
Knowing  this,  your  friends  have  thought  out  a way  to 
effect  your  escape,  and  so  I am  here.” 

“My  brave  friend!”  Alexander  cried,  embracing  him. 
“But  I cannot  leave  the  fortress  thus.  It  would  be  a 
cowardly  act.  No!  I will  stay  and  face  my  enemies,”  he 
went  on  in  a determined  voice. 

“Such  right  will  never  be  granted  you,  oh  Prince;  or 
only  the  semblance  of  it,  for  you  are  condemned  already.” 

“Condemned!  No!  No!  They  dare  not  thus  strike 
me  down  unheard.  It  is  not  possible  the  King  should 
sanction  so  cowardly  an  act,”  Alexander  concluded,  but 
with  less  assurance,  as  his  eyes  rested  on  the  sacrificial 
altar. 

“Your  presence  in  the  cell  of  the  condemned  is  proof 
of  what  I say.  Your  enemies,  aided  by  Cleopatra,  have 


350 


Iskander 


overcome  the  will  of  the  King,  and  a court  of  officers 
has  been  called,  with  Attains  at  its  head,  to  try  you  for 
treason.” 

“For  treason !”  Alexander  exclaimed,  his  face  flushing 
with  anger. 

“Yes,  and  before  a court  made  up  of  your  enemies,  for 
Clitus  and  the  others  have  fled  to  escape  a like  fate.” 

“The  Gods  be  praised  for  that!” 

“Condemned  by  the  court,  its  action  will  be  confirmed 
by  the  troops;  for  all  these  belong  to  Attains’  corps,  as 
you  know,  and  being  bound  to  him  will  lose  no  time  in 
doing  as  he  says.” 

“How  know  you  all  this  ?”  Alexander  cried,  amazed  at 
what  the  other  said. 

“From  Demetrius,  who  heard  what  passed  in 
the  King’s  chamber,  and  hastened  to  me  to  devise  a way 
for  your  escape  ere  it  was  too  late.” 

“ ’Twas  a generous  act,”  Alexander  murmured,  much 
affected. 

“But  of  this  Clitus  and  the  others  had  already  thought. 
For  immediately  you  were  arrested,  suspecting  a plot, 
they  hastened  to  me  that  I,  being  captain  of  the  guard, 
might  devise  a means  for  your  escape.  This  I have  done, 
sweet  Prince.” 

“You ! And  how,  good  friend  ?” 

“ ’Twas  simple  enough,  oh  Prince,  for  there  being 
great  confusion  throughout  the  palace  I suffered  some 
of  my  soldiers  to  visit  the  banquet  hall.  There,  drinking 
their  fill,  they  returned  with  skins  of  wine,  of  which  the 
others  partook,  and  thus  all  became  drunk.” 

“ ’Twas  a thought  worthy  of  Clitus,”  Alexander  mur- 
mured admiringly. 


Alexander’s  Flight  from  Pella  351 

“Yes,  but  in  half  an  hour,  nay,  while  we  speak,  the 
watch  may  be  changed  and  our  plans  brought  to  naught,” 
Hephestion  answered  anxiously.  “There  is  not  a mo- 
ment to  be  lost,  oh  Prince,  if  you  would  effect  your  es- 
cape.” 

“Go  on,  for  I can  see  no  way,  Hephestion,”  Alexander 
answered,  looking  about  him. 

“There  is  but  one,  oh  Prince,  and  that  easy  enough,” 
Hephestion  replied,  pointing  to  the  window  of  the  cell. 
“ ’Tis  high  up,  but  we  have  scaled  many  a loftier  wall  in 
our  youth,”  he  went  on  cheerfully.  “And  if  the  opening 
be  somewhat  small  you  may  still  crowd  your  body 
through.” 

“By  the  Gods ! I could  squeeze  my  body  through  half 
the  space  if  only  to  reward  your  devotion,”  Alexander 
answered,  looking  on  his  friend  with  admiring  eyes. 

“Once  you  have  passed  the  opening,  it  will  be  easy  to 
reach  the  water  beneath.” 

“Yes,  but  how,  good  friend?” 

“In  this  way,”  Hephestion  answered,  disclosing  a stout 
cord  of  bull’s  hide  which  he  carried  concealed  beneath  his 
cloak.  “There,”  he  went  on  without  further  words,  busy- 
ing himself  in  fastening  the  thong  to  Alexander’s  belt, 
“ ’tis  strong  enough  to  hold  Ossa’s  weight.” 

“You  have  forgotten  nothing,”  Alexander  exclaimed, 
struck  with  admiration  at  Hephestion’s  loving  fore- 
thought. 

“When  you  reach  the  water  cut  the  thong  and  your 
weight  being  released  I will  know  you  are  free,”  Hephes- 
tion continued  with  anxious  voice,  slipping  his  dagger 
beneath  Alexander’s  belt. 


352 


Iskander 


“But  you,  Hephestion!  What  will  become  of  you?” 
Alexander  cried,  starting  back.  “My  escape  being  discov- 
ered within  the  hour,,  you  will  be  put  to  death  ere  the 
sun  rise ! No,  good  friend ! I will  not  permit  the  sacri- 
fice, however  willingly  you  make  it,”  he  concluded,  throw- 
ing himself  down  on  the  stone  bench. 

“Not  so,  oh  Prince.  For  once  you  are  gone  I will 
relock  the  cell  and  no  one  can  certainly  tell  how  you  es- 
caped. Hasten,  then,  if  you  would  not  ruin  me  by  de- 
lay, for  the  watch  may  be  here  while  we  talk.”  Saying 
which  he  hastened  to  that  part  of  the  cell  beneath  the 
opening,  and  bending  down  cried  out:  “Come,  sweet 
Prince,  ’tis  like  the  pranks  for  which  Leonidas  used  to 
punish  us  in  our  youth.  There!  The  old  trick,”  he  cried 
as  the  Prince,  hesitating  no  longer,  sprang  upon  his 
shoulders. 

Thus  assisted  Alexander  reached  the  ledge,  and  draw- 
ing himself  up  forced  his  body  through  the  opening,  cast- 
ing a look  of  love  and  devotion  on  his  friend  as  he 
disappeared  through  the  narrow  window.  Hephestion, 
presently  straining  beneath  the  tightened  cord,  knew  that 
his  master  swung  in  mid-air  high  above  the  murky  wa- 
ters. Slowly  letting  out  the  thong,  hours  seemed  to 
pass  ere  it  slackened,  and  he  knew  the  Prince  was  safe. 
Hauling  up  the  cord  its  sharply  severed  end  showed  that 
Alexander  had  descended  unharmed.  Offering  up  a si- 
lent prayer  to  the  Gods  Hephestion  concealed  the  thong 
beneath  his  cloak  and  hastily  left  the  cell. 

Reaching  the  water  Alexander  rested  his  hand  on  the 
base  of  the  gloomy  fortress.  Looking  toward  the  city, 
the  lights  from  the  openings  of  the  citadel  reflected  on 


Alexander’s  Flight  from  Pella  353 

the  dark  water  like  glistening  stars,  but  about  the  base 
of  the  structure  everything  was  hidden  in  inky  darkness. 
Lowering  himself  into  the  water  he  swam  toward  the 
shore,  keeping  within  the  shadow  of  the  great  building. 
Reaching  the  open  river  the  flaring  torches  about  the 
entrance  of  the  fortress  cast  their  light  across  the  murky 
waters,  plainly  revealing  the  objects  on  its  surface;  but 
there  being  no  other  way  to  reach  the  shore  he  kept 
straight  on,  letting  his  body  sink  beneath  the  glistening 
mirror.  Thus  he  made  his  way  to  land  and  climbing  the 
steep  bank  lost  no  time  in  hastening  to  the  sacred  temple 
of  Minerva  as  Hephestion  had  said.  Seeing  him  approach 
running  at  full  speed  Clitus  cried  in  a voice  he  vainly 
sought  to  subdue: 

“ ’Tis  the  Prince,  comrades,  beard  of  Cyclops,  and  un- 
harmed.” 

Approaching  the  group  Alexander  held  out  his  hands 
in  love  and  grateful  thanks.  At  this  each  man,  holding 
fast  his  bridle  rein,  dropped  upon  his  knees  and  grasping 
the  Prince’s  outstretched  hands  pressed  them  tO'  their  lips. 
Lifting  them  up  he  embraced  them  in  turn,  and  coming 
last  to  Clitus,  that  doughty  warrior  releasing  him  from 
his  mighty  grasp,  cried  out: 

“Here  is  your  armor,  oh  Prince,  and  here  your  horse,” 
he  added  presently  revealing  Alexander’s  mighty  steed. 

Delighted  beyond  measure  at  this  last  evidence  of  his 
friends’  love,  Alexander  donned  his  armor  and  losing  no 
time  sprang  upon  the  back  of  his  gallant  steed.  The  oth- 
ers hastening  to  do  the  same,  the  cavalcade  at  once  set 
out,  and  it  being  now  near  the  hour  of  midnight  and  the 
streets  deserted  they  gained  the  northern  extremity  of  the 


354 


Iskander 


city  without  adventure  of  any  kind.  At  this  point  a nar- 
row causeway  intervened  traversing  the  great  swamp  as 
it  does  today,  connecting  the  capital  with  the  open 
plain.  At  the  further  extremity  of  the  raised  road  a gar- 
rison was  stationed  for  the  better  protection  of  the  city, 
commanded  by  Harpalus,  the  King’s  lieutenant.  Alexan- 
der, leading  the  way,  the  little  body  of  horsemen  entered 
the  narrow  causeway  at  a gallop,  Clitus  crying  out  with 
exultant  voice : 

“Harpalus  will  not  molest  us  if  we  but  drop  an  obol 
in  his  wide  palm,  unless  he  thinks  more  can  be  gained 
by  dallying,”  referring  to  that  officer’s  well-known  love  of 
money. 

Scarce,  however,  had  he  ceased  speaking  than  a flam- 
ing signal  flashed  from  the  summit  of  the  great  fortress, 
and  after  it  another  and  then  another.  Seeing  this 
Ptolemy  cried  out  disconsolately: 

“Your  escape  has  been  discovered,  oh  Prince,  and  all 
too  soon.” 

“ ’Tis  the  King’s  signal,  warning  his  soldiers  to  cap- 
ture, dead  or  alive,  any  who  may  be  abroad  without  li- 
cense,” Antigonus,  the  veteran,  interposed  as  the  light 
flashed  forth  anew  in  the  now  darkened  sky.  “ ’Twas  a 
thing  often  seen  in  the  early  days  of  Philip’s  reign,  and 
boded  no  good  to  those  who^  fled,”  he  went  on  reflect^ 
ively. 

To  these  comments  Alexander  made  no  response  save 
to  draw  his  sword  and  urge  his  horse  to  greater  effort. 
As  they  tlius  neared  the  guard  at  topmost  speed  they 
were  met  with  the  shrill  cry : 

“Halt!  In  the  King’s  name!” 


Alexander’s  Flight  from  Pella  355 

To  this  Alexander’s  only  answer  was  a savage  cry  to 
charge,  and  in  a moment  the  little  band  of  spurring  horse- 
men shot  out  of  the  darkness  into  the  glare  of  the  flaring 
torches.  Trampling  under  foot  or  striking  down  with 
flat  of  sword  the  bewildered  soldiers  who  obstructed  the 
way,  the  Prince  and  his  companions  gained  the  open 
plain  beyond.  Wheeling  his  horse  about,  Alexander  cried 
to  Harpalus,  who  stood  leaning  on  his  spear  beside  the 
road: 

“In  your  report  to  the  King,  Harpalus,  say  that  his  son 
commended  your  defense.  Against  other  than  Macedo- 
nians it  might  have  been  effective.  Tell  him  that  Alex- 
ander, free,  asks  nothing  at  his  hands.  When  the  throne 
is  vacant,”  he  went  on,  “I  will  return  to  fill  it.  Until 
then  I will  not  disturb  the  peace  of  the  kingdom  by  in- 
ternal war.  Except,  and  mark  you  the  exception  well, 
Harpalus,  except  the  Princess  Roxana  be  harmed  or  the 
King  put  my  followers  to  death.  If  he  do  either  I will 
gather  the  barbarians  of  the  North  and  West,  and  return- 
ing, put  to  death  all  who  have  insulted  my  mother  or 
sought  to  destroy  her  son.  Farewell!”  And  wheeling 
the  Prince  and  his  companions  disappeared  in  the  dark- 
ness of  the  night. 

Turning  abruptly  to  the  left  and  circling  the  great 
swamp,  Alexander  and  his  companions  kept  on  at  head- 
long speed.  Reaching  the  river  below  the  city,  Clitus 
and  those  with  him  understood  at  last  the  object  of  this^ 
strange  detour.  For  Alexander,  no  longer  regarding  his 
enemies  or  the  signals  that  continued  to  flash  from  the 
great  fortress,  thought  only  of  Roxana  and  the  cry  of 
anguish  that  would  burst  her  heart  were  he  not  the  first 


356 


Iskande  r 


to  tell  her  of  the  misfortune  that  overwhelmed  him.  Ap- 
proaching the  shore  opposite  Parcledes'  hut,  he  bade  his 
companions  await  his  return,  and  plunging  his  horse  into 
tlie  dark  waters  gained  the  opposite  shore.  Giving  his 
horse  to  Ossa,  who  had  challenged  him  with  uplifted 
spear  ere  he  reached  the  bank,  he  hastened,  with  barely 
a word  of  explanation,  to  the  now  silent  hut.  Striking 
the  door  a slave  opened  it,  revealing  Roxana  sitting  alone 
and  disconsolate  in  the  middle  of  the  great  room.  Be- 
holding him  she  uttered  a cry  of  joy  and  then  of  fear, 
exclaiming  as  she  clasped  him  in  her  arms : 

‘‘You  here,  Iskander,  and  in  armor?'’ 

*‘Yes,  my  sweet,  and  without  harm  of  any  kind,  as  you 
may  see,  save  the  wetting,”  he  answered,  caressing  her. 

“Why  the  wetting,  love,  when  the  highway  is  open  to 
you  ?”  she  queried,  scanning  his  face  with  troubled  coun- 
tenance. 

“That  I might  the  sooner  clasp  you  in  my  arms,  my 
child,”  he  answered,  pressing  a kiss  on  her  upturned  face. 

“That  is  not  all,  Iskander.  There  is  some  mystery 
back  of  it  that  you  are  hiding  from  me,”  she  exclaimed 
with  troubled  voice. 

“Only  such  mystery  as  you  may  readily  guess  from 
the  day's  happenings  at  Pella.” 

“Oh,  Iskander  ! You  are  flying,  and  for  your  life,’^ 
she  cried,  trembling. 

“If  that  Ije  so,  and  I save  my  life,  what  else  matters, 
Roxana?  For  one  may  overcome  every  misfortune  save 
deatli,”  he  answered,  closing  her  mouth  with  a kiss.  “It 
is  the  fate  of  Princes,  as  you  know,”  he  went  on  with 


Alexander’s  Flight  from  Pella  357 

cheerful  voice,  striving  to  cjuiet  her,  “to  live  secure  today 
and  fly  for  their  lives  tomorroAv.” 

“Oh,  Iskander!” 

“Let  not  the  prospect  dishearten  you,  Roxana.  You 
who  have  so  courageous  a heart;  who  fear  naught  more 
than  men.  If  I fly  it  is  but  for  a day.  Nor  do  I go  un- 
friended, for  beyond  the  river  Clitus  and  others  like  him 
await  me.  With  them  there  is  no  danger,  love,  that  may 
not  befall  men  in  the  common  risks  of  war.” 

“It  is  as  I feared,”  she  replied,  little  reassured.  “But 
what  dreadful  thing  ha6  happened  at  the  palace  to  cause 
you  to  fly  so  suddenly?” 

“Nothing  that  yo.u  did  not  clearly  foresee,  sweet  love. 
The  King,  surrounded  by  his  enemies  and  mine,  yet  lis- 
tens to  their  lies.  At  last,  being  wrought  up  to  a pitch 
of  fury,  when  only  half  accountable  for  his  acts,  he  or- 
dered my  imprisonment  and  trial  for  treason.” 

“For  treason!”  she  cried  in  terror.  “You  accused  of 
treason,  Iskander?  You,  the  soul  of  loyalty  and  honor?” 
she  went  on,  horrified  at  the  foul  charge. 

“Yes,  but  happily  my  friends  coming  to  my  aid,  I am 
free  and  armed,  as  you  see,  and  being  so  may  laugh  at  my 
enemies.” 

“Free!  when  you  must  fly  the  country,  an  unhappy 
wanderer,  a price  on  your  head  and  ever  finding  an  enemy 
where  you  thought  to  greet  a friend,”  she  exclaimed  with 
a shudder,  remembering  the  fate  of  Persia’s  princes  when 
thus  bereft  of  friends. 

“Nay,  put  not  so  bad  a face  upon  it,  Roxana,”  he  an- 
swered with  cheerful  confidence,  kissing  her  tear-stained 


358 


Iskander 


face.  “In  Epirus  and  Illyria  I have  friends,  and  may 
there  await  in  safety  the  return  of  happier  days.  Till 
then,  sweet  love,  we  must  steel  our  hearts  to  abide  the 
fortunes  of  the  hour  with  such  patience  as  we  can.” 

“Oh,  Iskander,  I cannot  part  from  you  thus,  I cannot,” 
she  cried  in  despair.  “You  have  filled  this  far-off  coun- 
try with  friendship  and  love,  and  away,  I shall  suffer  the 
sorrows  of  a double  exile.” 

“It  will  not  be  for  long,  for  the  King  is  both  great  and 
magnanimous,  and  will  not  credit  the  stories  he  has  been 
told  when  his  mind  clears.  ’Tis  too  monstrous  to  be- 
lieve.” 

“No,  no!  Those  about  him  will  add  lie  on  lie  until  you 
are  forever  ruined,”  she  answered  despairingly. 

“Those  who  now  menace  me  will,  I being  away,  con- 
trive against  the  King,  and  so  I shall  soon  return  either  to 
succor  or  succeed  him,”  he  answered  with  a sad  smile. 
’Till  that  day  we  must  wait.  With  change  of  fortune  I 
will  come  back  to  claim  you,  or  if  you  be  no  longer  here, 
wherever  you  may  be  I will  seek  you  out.” 

“But  I will  have  returned  ere  then  to  my  own  country, 
Iskander,  and  you  know  not  its  customs  in  respect  to  such 
as  I,”  she  answered,  tears  flooding  her  eyes.  “For  such 
stress  will  be  laid  upon  me  by  the  great  King  that  I shall 
be  compelled,  whether  or  no,  to  do  as  he  commands.” 

“To  become  the  wife  of  one  that  he  will  choose  for 
you,”  Alexander  answered,  his  brow  darkening  with  vex- 
ation and  anger. 

“Yes,  for  being  unwedded  I shall  have  no  choice,”  she 
answered  sorrowfully. 


Alexander’s  Flight  from  Pella  359 

“Then  I will  make  you  my  wife  now  and  here,  ere  I 
leave  you,”  he  exclaimed  after  a moment,  captivated  by 
the  thought. 

“Your  wife!” 

“Yes,  according  to  the  sacred  rites  of  my  country.” 

“The  great  King  will  little  regard  such  rites,  Iskander, 
thinking  them  barbarous  and  nowise  binding  upon  him 
or  mg.” 

“Then  we  will  wed  according  to  the  Persian  rites  as 
well,  my  love.  Thus  you  will  be  bound  to  me  by  ties  held 
sacred  both  by  your  countrymen  and  mine.” 

To  this  she  made  no  other  answer  than  to  clasp  him 
about  the  neck  with  the  cry  “I  love  you,  I love  you, 
Iskander !” 

“A  loaf  of  bread  and  a goblet  of  wine,”  he  continued, 
deeply  affected,  responding  to  her  soft  caress,  “is  all  we 
need  to  seal  the  union  according  to  our  simple  rites.  Then, 
however  widely  separated,  we  shall  still  be  united.”  And 
turning  from  her  he  called  a slave  and  bade  her  fetch  him 
bread  and  wine. 

While  awaiting  this  Parcledes  and  her  daughter  enter- 
ing the  room  Alexander  saluted  them  with  a kiss,  ex- 
claiming ; 

“You  come  in  good  time,  sweet  cousins,  to  see  us  wed. 
For  now  and  here,  according  to  our  ancient  rites,  I shall 
take  Roxana  to  be  my  wife.” 

Hearing  this  the  Princess  and  her  daughter  looked  up 
astonished,  but  being  accustomed  to  the  arbitrary  will  of 
Kings  they  made  no  comment  save  to  bow  their  heads. 

“Come,  Roxana,”  he  went  on,  leading  her  to  the  altar, 
which  according  to  the  customs  of  ancient  Greece  occu- 


360 


Iskander 


pied  a place  in  the  great  I'oom.  There,  kneeling  clown  and 
taking  his  sword,  he  severed  the  loaf  of  bread  which  the 
slave  had  brought,  giving  half  to  Roxana  and  retaining 
the  other  half  himself.  Pouring  wine  on  the  sec^ered 
parts  as  a libation,  each  partook  of  that  which  they  held, 
and  doing  so  became  husband  and  wife  according  to  the 
Macedonian  form  of  approbation  and  union. 

“Now  we  are  one,  my  love,  and  nothing  can  part  us 
save  death,”  Alexander  exclaimed,  clasping  her  in  his 
arms  and  covering  her  face  with  kisses. 

“But  I am  only  half  your  wife,”  she  answered,  smiling 
through  her  tears,  “until  we  are  wed  according  to  the 
Persian  rites.” 

“And  what  are  they?”  he  cried,  impatiently.  “Tell  me 
that  we  may  be  wholly  bound  to  each  other.” 

“I  have  but  to  kiss  you  and  you  to  return  it,  and  by 
that  simple  ceremony  we  are  wed,”  she  answered,  her  face 
suffused  with  blushes.  Then  pulling  him  down  to  her 
she  kissed  him  on  the  mo.uth;  and  he  returning  it  they 
became  man  and  wife  according  to  the  sacred  rites  of 
Persia. 

“ ’Tis  a ceremony  devised  by  lovers,”  Alexander  ex- 
claimed enraptured,  pressing  her  face  to  his.  “Now  you 
are  doubly  and  wholly  mine,  and  naught  can  part  us.” 

Thus  they  stood  for  many  minutes,  neither  speaking, 
their  hearts  throbbing  with  the  sweet  ecstasy  of  love.  At 
last,  releasing  her,  he  took  her  hand  and  turning  to  Par- 
cledes  and  her  daughter  exclaimed : 

“Thus  you  have  witnessed  our  double  marriage,  sweet 
cousins.  If  T live  you  shall  verify  it  if  need  be;  or  should 
I die,”  he  went  on  with  sober  voice,  “then  the  more  need 


Alexander’s  Flight  from  Pella  361 

that  she,  being  my  wife,  shall  receive  the  protection  it 
accords  her,  both  here  and  in  her  own  land.” 

In  this  way  they  were  wed,  and  bread  and  wine  being 
brought,  the  little  group  sat  down  to  the  simple  repast 
as  if  it  were  the  wedding  banquet  of  an  emperor,  as  in- 
deed it  proved  to  be.  Thus  an  hour  passed  when  Ossa, 
suddenly  throwing  wide  the  door,  cried  out : 

“The  soldiers  of  the  King  approach  the  house  from 
every  side,  oh  Prince ; in  a moment  they  will  be  here  and 
your  presence  discovered.  There  is  no  time  to  lose,”  he 
went  on  as  Alexander  sat  still,  his  face  flushed  with  an- 
ger, “if  you  would  not  bring  misfortune  on  the  Princess 
and  those  she  shelters  beneath  her  roof.” 

Hearing  this  Alexander  sprang  to  his  feet  and  instantly 
all  was  confusion.  But  Roxana,  who  a moment  before 
shrank  with  terror,  now  thinking  only  of  the  safety  of 
her  beloved,  grasped  his  arm  and  partly  leading  and  partly 
dragging  him  reached  the  open  door. 

“It  is  you  they  seek,  and  I,  by  keeping  you,  will  have 
caused  your  death,”  she  cried,  urging  him  forward.  “But 
where  is  his  horse.  Ossa?”  she  asked  impatiently,  peering 
about  her  in  the  darkness. 

“In  Clitus’  charge  beyond  the  river,  sweet  Princess. 
I thought  it  the  better  way  if  it  should  happen,  as  it  has, 
that  we  were  taken  by  surprise.  Now  a moment  only  is 
needed  for  him  to  cross  in  the  boat  which  lies  fastened 
to  the  shore.” 

Reaching  the  river  bank,  Roxana  threw  her  arms  about 
the  neck  of  Alexander  convulsed  with  grief.  Thus  they 
stood  without  speaking,  he  holding  her  close  in  his  arms, 
his  face  pressed  against  hers.  Nor  had  he  thought  of  re- 


362 


Iskander 


leasing  her  until  hearing  the  near  approach  of  the  King’s 
soldiers  she  pushed  him  from  her,  crying  as  she  kissed 
him  on  both  his  cheeks : 

“My  love,  my  husband;  fly,  fly,  ere  it  is  too  late!” 

But  Alexander,  grasping  her  again  in  his  arms,  cried 
out  in  grief  and  rage : 

“I  will  not  leave  you,  Roxana,  but  stay  and  abide  my 
fate.  Anything  were  better  than'  leaving  you  thus.” 

“You  shall  not,  Iskander!  ’Twould  be  but  for  a mo- 
ment and  I should  die  if  aught  befell  you.  Fly,  fly  then, 
if  you  love  me!”  and  kissing  him  again  she  turned  and 
ran  to  the  hut,  closing  and  bolting  the  door.  Here, 
strength  and  courage  both  failing  her,  she  uttered  a cry 
of  despair  as  she  fell  insensible  in  Parcledes’  outstretched 
arms. 

Alexander,  watching  her  vanishing  form,  his  heart  torn 
with  grief  and  rage,  would  have  followed,  but  Ossa, 
grasping  him  in  his  gigantic  arms,  lifted  him  into  the 
boat,  pushing  it  far  into  the  stream.  Crossing  to  the  op- 
posite shore  without  adventure  he  called  to:  Clitus,  and 
that  sturdy  soldier,  taking  the  Prince,  put  him  astride  his 
horse.  Now  all  his  friends  gathering  about  him  with  sor- 
rowing hearts  they  turned  their  horses’  heads  to  the  West 
and  in  a moment  were  lost  to  sight. 

All  night  they  rode,  Alexander  making  no  sign  but 
sitting  his  horse  as  if  dead  or  asleep.  His  companions 
close  about  him  said  little,  but  watched  with  anxious  eyes, 
the  flaming  signals  that  flared  the  night  through  from 
plain  and  mountain  side.  When  morning  dawned  the  little 
troop  found  themselves  amid  the  forest-covered  foothills 
that  bordered  the  mountains  to  the  west  of  Pella.  Clitus 


Alexander’s  Flight  from  Pella  363 

awakening  to  life  with  the  day,  gave  a cry  of  joy  at  sight 
of  the  green  trees  and  towering  mountains.  But  pres- 
ently Eumenes,  raising  his  hand  pointed  through  an  open- 
ing in  the  forest  to  a troop  of  Thracian  mercenaries  occu- 
pying the  mountain  pass  in  their  front. 

“See!  We  are  too  late.  The  King’s  troops  already  oc- 
cupy the  pass,”  he  exclaimed,  under  his  breath,  as  if  the 
trees  had  ears. 

Hearing  him,  Alexander  roused  himself  and  reining  in 
his  horse  sat  still  observing  the  movements  of  their  ene- 
mies. 

“Is  there  no  other  pass?”  he  exclaimed  at  last,  his  eyes 
flaming  at  sight  of  the  soldiers  who  obstructed  their  path. 
“These  mountains  are  an  open  book  to  you,  Clitus,”  he 
went  on  without  taking  his  eyes  off  the  King’s  troops. 

“There  is  no  other,  oh  Prince,  except  to  the  far  south 
and  that  at  Edessa  to  the  north.  This  before  us  is  but  a 
bridle  path  and  scarce  known  save  by  the  shepherds.  In 
the  wars  it  is  never  thought  worth  while  to  guard  it,  and 
so  we  believed  it  would  be  open  now,”  he  answered  with 
angry  impatience. 

“The  King  pays  us  a compliment  then  in  this  new  dis- 
position,” Alexander  answered  absently  as  he  sat  un- 
moved, scrutinizing  the  pass  and  the  nature  of  the  inter- 
vening ground.  Thus  he  continued  for  a long  time,  say- 
ing nothing.  At  last,  gathering  up  his  reins,  he  cried : 

“Come  with  me,  Clitus.  We  lose  rather  than  gain  by 
waiting.  You,  my  brave  friends,”  he  went  on,  turning 
to  the  others,  “remain  under  cover,  until  you  hear  the 
cry  to  charge,”  and  putting  spurs  to  his  horse,  followed 
by  Clitus,  he  galloped  into  the  narrow  plain  that  lay  be- 


364 


I skander 


tween  them  and  the  ascending  pass.  Concealing  their 
arms  they  rode  forward  in  seeming  ignorance  of  danger, 
or  thought  of  it.  Thus  they  traversed  half  the  width  of 
the  valley,  when  Alexander,  suddenly  throwing  his  horse 
back  on  his  haunches,  pointed  out  the  Thracian  soldiers 
to  Clitus  as  if  seeing  them  now  for  the  first  time.  Wait- 
ing a moment  as  if  to  determine  their  number,  Alexander 
and  his  companion  turned  about  and  slowly  made  their 
way  toward  the  forest.  Seeing  they  were  discovered  the 
Thracian  soldiers  charged  down  the  side  of  the  moun- 
tain at  headlong  speed  amid  the  blare  of  trumpet 
and  cries  of  triumph.  Alexander  and  Clitus,  now 
increasing  their  speed  as  if  intent  upon  escaping, 
quickly  reached  the  cover  of  the  woods  where 
their  companions  were  concealed.  Here  they  waited 
until  the  Thracian  troop  neared  the  forest  in  wild 
disorder,  thinking  but  lightly  of  their  enemy.  Seeing 
this,  Alexander  raised  his  sword,  and  without  cry  or  noise 
of  any  kind,  the  little  band  emerged  from  the  forest  at 
full  speed.  Surprised  at  their  number  and  close  array, 
the  King’s  officers  sought  to  form  their  troops  in  com- 
pact column,  but  Alexander  leading  the  way,  the  little 
band  struck  the  disorganized  soldiers  like  a thunder-bolt. 
Breaking  through  the  widely  scattered  line,  they  stopped 
not,  but  increasing  the  speed  of  their  horses,  lost  no  time 
in  gaining  the  pass  from  which  the  Thracian  troop  had 
just  emerged.  Here,  turning  about,  they  formed  anew 
to  receive  their  enemies,  who,  filled  with  anger  and  shame 
at  the  trick  played  upon  them,  lost  no  time  in  attempting 
to  regain  the  pass.  Waiting  until  the  King’s  soldiers  en- 
tered the  mouth  of  the  narrow  gap,  the  Prince  gave  the 


Alexander’s  Flight  from  Pella  365 

signal  to  charge.  Now,  having  every  advantage,  the 
horsemen  leading  the  Thracian  column,  unable  to  with- 
stand the  fiery  onslaught,  turned  and  fled ; and  these  dis- 
organizing those  who  followed,  the  whole  troop  were  in 
a moment  in  tumultuous  flight.  Pursuing  them  to  the 
edge  of  the  valley,  Alexander  called  a halt,  and,  turning 
about,  the  little  band  slowly  reascended  the  pass. 

Reaching  the  camp  of  their  enemies  they  dismounted 
and  picketed  and  fed  their  worn  horses.  Then  offering 
a sacrifice  and  libation  to  the  Gods  for  their  escape  from 
death,  they  sat  down  in  joyful  contentment  to  the  steam- 
ing breakfast  that  the  Thracian  soldiers  had  left  un- 
tasted in  their  camp.  Thus  ended  the  events  of  the  day 
and  night  that  followed  the  return  of  the  forceful  King 
to  Pella;  events  that  historians  have  commented  upon 
with  never  failing  interest  from  that  day  to  the  present 
time. 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 


THE  PRAYER  TO  JUPITER. 

Worn  out  with  fatigue  and  the  sorrowful  events  of  the 
preceding  day  and  night,  Alexander  and  his  companions 
rested  until  midday  beside  the  stream  that  marked  the 
narrow  pass.  Then,  refreshed,  they  began  the  ascent  of 
the  cold  and  rugged  heights  that  towered  above  their 
heads.  Making  little  progress,  they  camped  for  the  night 
midway  on  the  mountain  side  amid  a sheltered  grove  of 
pines.  Here  they  lighted  fires  to  warm  their  chilled  bod- 
ies and  as  a protection  for  their  horses  against  the  sav- 
age animals  that  had  their  haunts  amid  these  remote  soli- 
tudes. Partaking  of  a hearty  supper  from  the  abundant 
spoils  of  the  Thracian  camp,  they  gathered  boughs  for 
beds,  and  throwing  themselves  down  on  the  fragrant 
stems  were  soon  lost  in  sleep.  Arising  at  dawn,  rested 
and  refreshed,  they  continued  the  ascent  of  the  lofty 
mountain,  Clitus  leading  the  way  with  song  and  story, 
happy  at  being  once  more  amid  his  native  wilds.  Reach- 
ing the  summit,  the  wild  scenery  of  the  Haliacmon  and 
its  myriad  tributaries,  lay  spread  out  before  them  in  all 
its  varied  splendor.  Descending  the  mountain  side,  they 
found  the  country  beyond  wild  and  rugged  in  the  ex- 
treme. Traversed  by  swift  running  streams,  fed  by 
springs  and  mountain  snows,  no  path  penetrated  the 
gloomy  forests  and  lonely  glens.  Emerging  from  these 
worn  and  somewhat  disheartened  they  sought  a way  in 
the  beds  of  shallow  streams  or  along  the  edge  of  sombre 

(366) 


367 


The  Prayer  to  Jupiter 

canons  and  towering  precipices.  At  last,  as  they  ap- 
proached the  Haliacmon,  its  presence  was  long  heralded 
by  the  thunder  of  its  cataracts  and  the  deep  mists  that 
rose  from  its  foaming  waters.  Crossing  at  a lonely  ford 
to  which  Clitus  guided  them,  they  reached  at  the  close 
of  the  third  day  the  upper  stretches  of  the  Cambunian 
mountains.  Making  their  way  to  the  summit  they  beheld 
before  them  Pindus’  lofty  heights.  These  surmounted 
with  laborious  effort,  they  looked  back  with  thankful 
hearts  over  the  woodlands  and  mountains  they  had  trav- 
ersed to  the  far-off  fertile  plains  of  Thessaly.  Turning 
again  to  the  West,  and  in  chilling  contrast,  the  bare  and 
rugged  country  of  Epirus  lay  before  them  in  all  its  naked- 
ness. Straining  their  eyes  naught  met  their  view  save 
tumbled  masses  of  mountains  and  gloomy  valleys,  where- 
in sluggish  streams  festered  in  stagnant  marshes  or  were 
lost  in  dark  and  impenetrable  canons.  But  here,  how- 
ever uninviting  the  prospect,  safety  lay ; for  this  was  the 
land  they  sought,  the  country  ruled  over  by  Alexander’s 
uncle,  the  Epirot  King  after  whom  he  was  named. 

Weary  and  chilled  with  the  cold  and  biting  winds,  the 
little  troop  hurried  on,  seeking  shelter  for  the  night  in  a 
cave  beneath  a granite  cliff.  Resuming  their  journey 
early  the  succeeding  morning,  afternoon  found  them  look- 
ing down  with  delighted  hearts  upon  the  ancient  and 
sacred  shrine  of  Dodona.  To  the  right,  as  they  gazed 
with  eager  eyes,  lake  Pambotis  sparkled  and  glimmered 
in  the  declining  sun,  reflecting  in  its  beauty  the  theme  of 
poet  and  minstrel  for  unnumbered  ages  of  Grecian  life. 
To  the  left  there  rose  a mountain  of  barren  rock,  but 
nearer  by,  as  if  in  contrast,  groves  of  venerable  oaks  ap- 


368  Iskander 

peared,  interspersed  with  sequestered  dales  and  open 
meadows. 

At  the  base  of  the  forbidding  height,  and  clinging  to 
its  barren  side,  Alexander  beheld  with  beating  heart  the 
shrine  of  Zeus.  Clustered  about  the  sanctuary,  as  lesser 
heights  crowd  about  a central  dome,  other  and  smaller 
edifices  stood  revealed  to  him.  Picturing  it  as  he  had 
been  told,  he  saw  the  grove  of  sacred  oaks,  the  prophetic 
tree  of  Jupiter,  and  beside  it  the  mysterious  spring  of 
purling  water  encircling  about  the  blazened  statue  of 
Dione.  Scanning  the  sacred  spot  with  eager  interest, 
Seleucus,  who  had  visited  the  shrine,  pointed  out  the 
protecting  citadel,  and  beyond  the  stately  structure  where- 
in the  games  in  Zeus’  honor  were  celebrated.  At  one 
side  the  treasury  of  the  mighty  God  stood  revealed  and 
a step  away  the  sacred  place  of  offerings  beside  the  ven- 
erable temple  of  Aphrodite.  Not  a thing  escaped  the 
eager  Prince  as  he  stood  motionless  surveying  the  tran- 
quil scene.  Here  he  remembered  the  Gods  of  ancient 
Greece  first  found  a sanctuary;  here  was  the  birthplace 
of  Grecian  belief;  here  it  was  that  Zeus,  the  Supreme 
Deity,  first  made  known  his  will  to  men. 

As  the  little  group  stood  thus  watching  and  comment- 
ing on  the  interesting  picture  a storm  springing  up  in 
the  mountains,  accompanied  by  lightning  and  rolling 
thunder,  gave  such  reality  to  the  scene  that  all,  with  one 
accord,  springing  from  their  horses,  fell  upon  their  knees 
in  prayer  and  supplication.  Rising  to  their  feet,  they 
feasted  their  eyes  anew  on  the  sacred  spot,  hallowed  by  the 
presence  of  Jupiter  and  the  remembrance  of  unnumbered 
ages  of  suppliants  who  had  worshipped  at  his  shrine. 


369 


The  Prayer  to  Jupiter 

Pursuing  their  way,  they  reached  at  last  the  imposing 
entrance  to  the  sacred  inclosure.  Here,  on  their  knees, 
with  bowed  heads,  they  deposited,  with  barefooted  and 
austere  priests,  such  offerings  as  they  had.  Of  these  Alex- 
ander had  naught  save  the  chain  about  his  neck  and  the 
embossed  battle  shield  he  bore  upon  his  arm.  These  he 
gave  with  prayers  and  fervent  sighs  that  he  had  naught 
else  to  offer. 

“The  gift  of  the  heart  and  belief  in  the  Gods  make 
whatever  token  be  offered  acceptable  to  Zeus,”  the  ancient 
priest  answered,  bending  in  low  obeisance  to  the  sacred 
temple  standing  half  hidden  amid  the  wide  spreading 
oaks. 

“My  people  for  a thousand  years  have  given  their 
hearts  and  of  their  treasures  to  Zeus,  and  so  they  will 
continue  to  do  as  long  as  time  lasts,”  Alexander  reverently 
answered. 

“Whence  come  ye?”  the  priest  inquired,  but  without 
animation,  as  if  individuals,  however  many  or  great,  were 
as  naught  in  the  presence  of  the  mighty  God. 

“We  come  as  suppliants,  fugitives  from  an  implacable 
enemy,”  Alexander  answered  simply. 

“All  find  welcome  and  protection  here,  the  suppliant 
more  than  the  others,  if  distinction  there  be,”  the  ancient 
priest  answered  solemnly.  “But  who  are  ye,  if  you  care 
to  make  yourself  known;  though  it  matters  not  if  you 
desire  otherwise.” 

“We  have  no  cause  longer  to  hide  our  names  or  lineage, 
thanks  to  the  protecting  care  of  Zeus,  and  so  I may  tell 
you  I am  Alexander,  the  son  of  Olympias  of  the  house  of 


370 


Iskander 


Epirus,  whose  kings  have  reigned  over  this  ancient  coun- 
try for  a thousand  years,”  he  answered  with  bowed  head. 

“So  I thought,  for  your  color  and  voice  and  hair  are 
Olympias’  and  your  high  features  bear  her  lineaments, 
ere  she  left  the  solitudes  of  these  Epirot  mountains  and 
valleys  to  dwell  amid  the  swine  of  Philip’s  court,”  he 
continued  with  angry  vehemence.  “In  her  youth,  know 
thou,  and  it  is  a thing  for  you  to  treasure,  she  was  of  such 
supreme  beauty  and  majesty  that  the  Great  God  was 
thought  to  have  watched  over  her  birth.” 

“She  is  not  less  beautiful  nor  less  majestic  now,  oh 
priest,  and  in  her  deep  distress  has  greater  need  than  in 
her  youth  for  Zeus’  love  and  protecting  care,”  Alexander 
answered,  sadly  thinking  of  his  mother,  a wanderer  on 
the  face  of  the  earth. 

“He  loses  not  interest  with  passing  years  in  those 
whom  he  has  treasured;  and  Olympias  has,  as  in  her 
youth,  his  love  and  protecting  care.  But  is  there  aught 
else  you  crave,”  he  went  on,  scanning  Ale:sander  more 
closely.  “If  so,  the  God  will  listen  with  patience  to  your 
prayer.” 

“Yes,  good  priest,  but  I would  delay  it  if  I might  until 
the  morrow,  when  I may  present  myself  in  more  fit  at- 
tire,” Alexander  answered,  excusing  himself. 

“Such  things  you  will  find,  and  all  else  beside,  in  yon- 
der protecting  citadel,”  the  priest  replied,  and  lifting  his 
hands  the  aged  guardian  of  the  gate  turned  and  slowly 
made  his  way  toward  the  sacred  temple. 

Remounting  their  horses  the  little  party  soon  reached 
the  lofty  citadel,  which  opened  wide  its  gates  at  their  ap- 
proach. Offering  up  a sacrifice  for  their  deliverance,  food 


371 


The  Prayer  to  Jupiter 

and  wine  were  provided  them  by  the  aged  attendants, 
after  which  each  sought  the  couch  assigned  him  for  the 
night. 

On  the  morrow,  rising  with  the  dawn,  they  sought  the 
secluded  lake,  and  having  bathed,  donned  the  white  robes 
given  them  at  the  castle.  Thus  arrayed  and  their  feet  en- 
cased in  sandals  of  untanned  leather,  thq^  sought  the 
sacred  temple  of  Zeus. 

Conducted  to  the  presence  of  the  venerable  Selli  or 
high  priest,  Alexander  transcribed  on  the  leaden  plate 
that  was  given  him  the  preferment  he  wished  to  make. 
And  thinking  always  of  Roxana,  and  not  at  all  of  his  own 
fortunes  or  their  outcome,  this  was  his  simple  prayer : 

“Thou,  oh  Zeus,  the  divine  God,  say  if  thou  wilt  smile 
upon  my  love,  bringing  it  at  last  to  a happy  issue.” 

Presenting  this  on  bended  knees  to  the  high  priest,  the 
latter  caused  it  to  be  borne  to  the  Peleidades  or  sacred 
priestesses  who  stood  in  sombre  stillnes.s,  half  revealed, 
within  the  entrance  to  the  lofty  temple. 

“The  man  who  named  these  ancient  women  with  their 
uncombed  hair  and  disheveled  dress  ‘doves’  must  have 
been  blind  or  crazed,”  Clitus  whispered  to  his  companion, 
referring  to  an  ancient  custom  of  calling  the  Dodonian 
priestesses  “doves.”  “These  lean  and  shriveled  priests 
too!  Bah!  Do  they  never  bathe?”  he  went  on,  pointing 
to  the  venerable  prophets,  whose  ascetic  vows  forbade 
them  to  wear  shoes  or  wash  their  feet. 

“Silence,  Clitus!  Dare  you  scoff  in  the  very  presence 
of  the  Gods  ?”  Alexander  exclaimed  in  an  angry  voice. 
To  this  Clitus  made  no  reply  save  to  raise  his  hand  in 
vexation  that  what  he  had  said  should  have  been  over- 
heard by  his  master. 


372 


Iskander 


“Return,  my  son,  on  the  morrow,”  the  high  priest  at 
last  exclaimed,  “when  the  divine  priestess  has  listened  to 
the  sounding  timbrels  of  hanging  bronze  and  meditated 
on  their  mysterious  import;  then,  when  she  shall  have 
tasted  of  the  miraculous  waters  of  the  sacred  spring, 
Zeus,  whispering  from  amid  the  rustling  oaks,  will  make 
known  his  answer.” 

Taking  their  departui'e  the  little  party  sought  the  cita- 
del, returning  the  following  morning  as  had  been  ap- 
pointed. Reaching  the  sacred  enclosure  they  waited  be- 
neath the  murmuring  oal-cs  for  the  high  priest  to  make 
known  the  answer  of  the  divine  oracle.  Nor  was  it  long 
ere  he  made  his  appearance,  for  presently  emerging  from 
the  temple  surrounded  by  priestly  attendants  he  ap- 
proached bearing  a golden  salver,  studded  with  jewels. 
Upon  this  the  sacred  script  containing  the  answer  of  Zeus 
lay  exposed.  Kneeling,  Alexander  received  it,  bending 
low  over  the  priceless  treasure.  At  last  summoning  cour- 
age he  raised  it  to  his  eyes  and  this  is  what  he  read : 

“Despair  not  of  thy  love,  oh  Prince,  until  twice  a King 
it  shall  still  be  denied  thee.” 

Upon  perusing  the  Delphic  utterance  Alexander  was 
much  cast  down  and  remained  long  upon  his  knees,  pon- 
dering on  what  he  read.  At  last  lifting  up  his  head  he 
thanked  the  priest,  and  promising  the  oracle  some  fit 
offering  when  fortune  smiled  upon  him,  he  arose  and 
slowly  withdrew  from  the  sacred  grove.  Long  he  re- 
mained silent,  filled  with  sad  thoughts  and  melancholy 
forebodings,  but  at  last,  divulging  the  answer  to  his  com- 
panions, they  could  make  nothing  of  it  more  than  he. 
Reflecting  upon  it  over  night  Seleucus,  who  was  much 


373 


The  Prayer  to  Jupiter 

versed  in  such  things,  having  once  thought  to  be  a priest, 
came  to  the  Prince  at  break  of  day,  crying : 

“I  have  the  riddle,  oh  Prince,  and  ’tis  as  plain  as  a 
goose’s  egg.  Thus  when  Persia  is  won,  as  will  surely  hap- 
pen, you  will  after  Philip,  or  mayhap  before,  reign  over 
it  in  place  of  Darius.  Then  being  already  King  of  Mace- 
donia, you  will  be  twice  a king,  and  so  till  then  you  need 
not  despair  of  your  love,”  he  concluded  with  a smiling 
countenance. 

“Is  it  with  such  foolish  thoughts  that  you  would  seek 
to  comfort  me,  Seleucus?”  Alexander  asked  with  a sad 
smile,  averting  his  face. 

“Nay,  ’tis  good  sense,  oh  Prince,”  Clitus  interposed, 
accepting  what  the  other  said  in  simple  faith.  “For  you 
shall  be  King  of  Macedonia  in  good  time  and  afterwards 
King  of  Persia,  as  we  have  so  often  talked  in  idle  fancy.” 

“We  will  make  our  way  like  men,  Clitus,  whatever  fate 
befall  us,”  the  Prince  answered,  smiling  upon  his  faith- 
ful friend,  “but  does  our  present  flight  look  as  if  I should 
be  twice  a king,  or  indeed  a king  at  all,  this  twenty  years  ? 
Disowned  and  hunted  by  all  Greece,  as  I shall  be  ere  a 
month  passes,  I am  more  like  to  die  ere  the  moon  changes 
than  to  be  twice  crowned  as  Seleucus  says.” 

“Lose  not  heart,  oh  Prince,  over  much  thinking  of 
your  love,”  Clitus  cried  in  response.  “For  by  the  beard 
of  Cyclops  we  will  in  good  time  carve  a two-fold  crown 
for  you  with  our  naked  swords,  if  the  sweet  Roxana,  the 
Gods  bless  her,  be  content  with  nothing  less.” 

Smiling  his  love  in  response  Alexander  made  no  other 
reply.  And  now  having  nothing  further  to  detain  them 
at  Dodona  the  little  party  returned  to  the  citadel  and 
donning  their  armor  resumed  their  journey. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 


GLAUCUS,  THE  BARBARIAN. 

-3  Alexander,  little  comforted,  now  directed  his  steps  to 
Passaron,  the  ancient  capital  of  Epirus,  where  for  a thou- 
sand years  the  Molossian  Kings  had  received  their  crowns. 
Reaching  the  anciait  castle  that  topped  the  heights  above 
the  town,  he  found  the  King  had  transferred  his  court  to 
the  seashore,  as  was  his  yearly  habit.  Leaving  Passaron, 
a day’s  easy  journey  brought  them  in  sight  of  the  Ionian 
Sea.  Here,  looking  down  from  the  lofty  heights,  they 
traced  at  their  feet  the  wild  and  foaming  Acheron,  as  it 
descended  the  steep  incline  in  a torrent  of  mist  and  spray 
to  the  placid  sea.  Near  its  mouth,  amid  a verdant  plain, 
wooded  by  stately  trees  and  sloping  to  the  spacious  har- 
bor, they  beheld  with  delighted  hearts  the  castle  of  the 
Molossian  King. 

Some  news  of  Alexander’s  approach  having  reached 
the  monarch,  he  mounted  a horse  and  set  off  with  his 
courtiers  to  receive  the  Prince,  welcoming  him  with  every 
show  of  hospitality  and  love.  But  afterwards,  on  learning 
the  particulars  of  Alexander’s  flight  from  Pella  and 
Olympias’  exile,  his  manner  became  far  less  cordial.  No- 
ticing this  Alexander  sought  him  out,  and,  asking  an  ex- 
planation of  the  change,  the  Epirot  King  answered  after 
some  hesitation : 

“I  need  not  tell  you,  Alexander,  that  you  are  welcome 
at  my  court.  The  exiled  and  suppliant  prince  ever  claims 


Glaucus,  the  Barbarian  375 

the  protection  and  hospitality  of  kings.  You,  being  of 
my  house  and  treasured  in  my  heart,  are  thrice  welcome. 
But  what  of  Philip,  your  father,  Alexander?  Hasty  of 
temper,  impatient  of  opposition  and  setting  no  limit  to 
his  animosities,  once  they  are  aroused,  what  may  we  not 
expect  of  him  ?”  he  went  on  with  troubled  voice.  “Learn- 
ing of  your  presence  here  and  urged  on  by  your  enemies, 
will  he  long  respect  the  neutrality  of  my  poor  country? 
And  the  new  Queen  and  Attalus?  Think  you  they  can 
sleep  soundly  in  their  beds  so  long  as  you  hover  like  an 
eagle  on  the  edge  of  Macedonia?  Thus,  oh  Prince,  I will 
in  the  end  become  involved  in  a hazardous  conflict  with 
the  mighty  King  unless  I deliver  you  into  his  hands, 
which  last  you  know  I will  never  do.” 

Unwilling  to  involve  the  friendly  monarch  in  so  griev- 
ous a war,  Alexander,  embracing  and  thanking  him,  an- 
swered : 

“The  sacrifice  would  be  unavailing,  oh  King,  for  unable 
to  stay  the  Macedonian  forces  your  country  would  be 
quickly  overrun  and  conquered.  To  save  you  this  ca- 
lamity, I and  my  companions  will  lose  no  time  in  seeking 
a refuge  elsewhere.”  And  that  there  might  be  some  good 
excuse  for  his  going,  he  everywhere  proclaimed  his  deter- 
mination to  set  out  at  once  to  meet  and  welcome  his  moth- 
er’s return  to  Epirus. 

The  King  giving  his  consent  and  providing  him  with 
a stout  ship  the  Prince  and  his  companions  lost  no  time 
in  doing  as  he  said.  Keeping  near  the  land  their  hearts 
were  gladdened  on  the  second  day  by  the  approach  of  a 
stately  galley  bearing  aloft  a crimson  sail.  Recognizing 
the  Queen’s  vessel,  they  raised  a shout,  and  as  the  ship 


376 


Iskander 


came  swiftly  on  the  Prince  beheld  his  mother  standing 
motionless  on  the  uplifted  platform.  Suspecting  Alexan- 
der’s vessel  to  be  an  Illyrian  pirate,  great  numbers  of 
which  infested  the  Ionian  Sea,  the  Queen  stood  watch- 
ing its  approach  with  anxiety  not  unmixed  with  fear. 
About  her  in  their  allotted  places  her  Molossian  guards 
stood  armed,  prepared  to  welcome  the  oncoming  vessel  as 
a friend,  or  repel  it  as  an  enemy. 

As  the  great  Queen’s  form  came  clearly  into  view  its 
majesty  and  commanding  stature  struck  those  who  gazed 
upon  her  from  Alexander’s  ship  with  something  akin  to 
awe.  Her  light  blue  eyes,  hardened  by  many  sorrows, 
had  in  their  depths  at  this  period-  of  her  life  no  tint  of 
mellowness  except  as  they  reflected  the  image  of  her  be- 
loved son.  Above  her  yellow  hair,  in  which  no  sign  of 
age  appeared,  there  flared  a crimson  hat  with  pointed 
peak,  from  which  floated  a stately  plume.  This  increas- 
ing her  commanding  height  added  to  the  supreme  majesty 
of  her  mien.  Clad  in  a long  flowing  dress  of  purple  vel- 
vet embroidered  with  silver,  the  queenly  garment  dis- 
played her  full  and  voluptuous  figure  in  all  its  graceful 
outlines.  Over  her  dress  and  adding  to  its  splendor  she 
wore  a cloak  of  pink  bordered  with  stripes  of  green. 
Strands  of  heavy  gold  beads  and  strings  of  pearls  en- 
veloped her  throat,  while  massive  bracelets  of  gold  en- 
circled her  arms,  showing  in  their  richness  and  profusion 
her  love  of  barbaric  splendor.  In  further  ornamentation 
massive  girdles  of  jointed  gold  inlaid  with  precious  stones 
glistened  about  the  waist  of  the  great  Queen.  Harmon- 
izing with  this  and  in  supplement  thereto  similar  girdles 


Glaucus,  the  Barbarian  377 

were  clasped  about  her  ankles  above  the  Theban  shoes  of 
snow  white  leather  that  encased  her  feet. 

Holding  out  their  hands  Alexander  and  those  about 
him  raised  a shout  of  joy  and  welcome.  At  this  the 
Queen,  recognizing  the  Prince  and  those  about  him,  stood 
motionless  and  silent,  seemingly  overcome  by  wonder  and 
astonishment.  This  presently  giving  way  to  a deeper 
feeling,  she  reached  out  her  arms  to  her  son,  her  face  re- 
vealing the  mingled  emotions  that  stirred  her  heart.  Di- 
vining her  thoughts  and  deeply  affected,  Alexander  cried 
out : 

“Hail,  Queen  of  Macedonia!  Your  son  and  those  you 
love,  come  in  health  to  greet  and  welcome  you.” 

Hearing  his  voice  and  divining  all  that  had  befallen 
him,  she  sank  down  overcome  by  her  emotions  on  the 
bench  beside  which  she  stood.  The  ships  now  drawing 
together  Alexander  hastened  to  her  side,  and  falling  down 
embraced  her  knees,  as  he  might  have  done  in  childhood. 
Drawing  him  to  her,  unable  to  speak,  she  clasped  him 
in  her  arms,  wetting  his  face  with  her  tears.  Thus  she 
held  him  until  regaining  her  composure  in  some  measure 
she  seated  him  by  her  side  and  questioned  him  as  to  the 
cause  of  his  presence  there.  To  all  she  asked  he  answered 
with  such  loving  reservations  as  he  thought  would  lighten 
the  blow  to  her  pride  and  heart.  When  in  this  way  she 
had  been  informed  of  all  that  had  occurred  she  com- 
mended what  he  had  done  and  not  less  his  having  wed  his 
love  the  Princess  Roxana.  After  this  the  Queen,  send- 
ing for  Alexander’s  companions,  gave  her  hand  to 
each  in  token  of  her  love  and  grateful  thanks.  Now, 
there  being  no  longer  reason  for  further  delay,  the  ships 


378 


Iskander 


spread  their  sails  anew,  steering  for  the  Epirot  coast 
from  whence  Alexander  had  departed.  On  nearing  their 
destination  they  were  met  by  the  King’s  barge,  sent  in 
welcome  of  the  Queen,  but  more  directly  to  warn  Alex- 
ander of  the  new  danger  that  threatened  him  in  Epirus. 
For  while  he  had  been  away  the  emissaries  of  Attains  had 
arrived,  Philip  being  ill,  demanding  that  Alexander  be 
given  up  to  them  or  expelled  the  country,  threatening  im- 
mediate war  if  their  request  were  denied.  In  the  King’s 
barge  also  came  Hephestion,  who  had  been  exiled  because 
of  his  connivance  at  Alexander’s  escape.  Clasping  him 
in  his  arms  Alexander  kissed  him,  exclaiming; 

“Naught  in  the  world,  oh  friend,  could  have  so  glad- 
dened my  heart.  It  is  as  if  you  had  returned  from  the 
dead,”  he  cried,  thinking  of  the  danger  the  other  had 
braved  in  aiding  his  escape. 

“ ’Twas  not  so  bad  as  that,  oh  Prince,  for  nothing  was 
proven  against  me,  and  the  King,  good-natured,  sought 
not  to  question  me  too  closely,  exclaiming  at  last  as  he 
pinched  my  chin,  ‘The  air  about  Pella  is  not  suited  to  ad- 
venturous youths  or  those  whose  wounds  are  unhealed, 
Hephestion.  The  seashore  were  a better  place  for  such 
invalids.’  Saying  which  he  dismissed  me  with  a smile, 
and  I,  mounting  a horse,  set  out,  as  you  see.” 

“Tell  me,”  Alexander  exclaimed,  again  embracing  him, 
and  commending  his  discretion,  “tell  me  something  of  my 
sweet  love,  Roxana.  Is  she  well  and  bears  she  up  bravely 
under  her  afflictions?’ 

“I  difl  not  see  her,  oh  Prince,  but  Demetrius,  who  has- 
tened to  Parcledcs’  hut  after  your  departure,  told  me  she 
was  distraught  with  grief  over  the  dangers  that  threat- 


Glaucus.the  Barbarian  379 

ened  you.  Holding  close  his  hand  she  would  listen  to 
no  other  name  but  yours,  seeming  to  live  and  breathe  only 
in  the  thought  of  you.” 

“My  sweet  love,”  Alexander  exclaimed,  unable  to  say 
more. 

“When  the  news  was  signaled  of  your  arrival  in  Epi- 
rus, Demetrius  hastened  to  her  again  to  comfort  her  and 
inform  her  of  your  escape.” 

“Gallant  and  loving  heart,  how  much  I owe  him,” 
Alexander  answered  with  deep  emotion. 

While  Alexander  was  thus  occupied,  his  heart  agitated 
with  contending  emotions,  Clitus,  ever  intent  upon  his 
master’s  affairs,  busied  himself  questioning  the  King’s 
messenger.  From  him  he  learned  that  the  Epirot  King 
was  greatly  agitated  over  Attains’  demand,  and  while  hav- 
ing no  thought  of  delivering  Alexander  up  yet  sought 
a way  out  of  the  difficulty  without  giving  offense  to  his 
powerful  neighbor.  It  was  in  pursuance  of  this  that  he 
dispatched  the  messenger  as  if  to  welcome  his  sister, 
Olympias,  but  in  fact  to  advise  Alexander  of  his  distress- 
ful situation. 

“Well,”  exclaimed  Clitus  when  all  this  had  been  ex- 
plained to  him,  “what  does  the  King  advise?” 

“He  does  not  venture  to  advise,  good  friend,”  the  other 
answered  with  reserve,  “but  suggests  that  Illyria,  being 
remote  and  its  King  always  at  odds  with  Philip  and  ever 
ready  to  welcome  and  protect  those  who  fly  from  Pella," 
it  would  seem  to  offer  Alexander  a safer  refuge  than 
Epirus,  at  Philip’s  very  door.” 

“Go  on,”  Clitus  exclaimed  sternly,  as  the  other  hesi- 
tated. 


380 


Iskander 


“Believing  Alexander  would  agree  with  him  in  this  he 
has  dispatched  a courier  to  the  Illyrian  King  advising  him 
of  Alexander’s  probable  arrival.” 

“Then  it  is  all  fixed,”  Clitus  exclaimed  with  little  show 
of  politeness,  turning  on  his  heel. 

Seeking  Alexander,  he  told  him  what  he  had  heard, 
and  the  latter,  losing  no  time,  hastened  to  divulge  it  to  the 
Queen.  Swayed  by  many  contending  emotions,  they  were 
long  in  determining  what  course  to  follow,  but  seeing  no 
other  way  than  that  proposed  by  the  Molossian  King,  they 
finally  acquiesced  in  its  necessity.  Taking  leave  of  his 
mother  amidst  the  tears  of  each,  Alexander  returned  to 
his  ship  with  his  companions  and  hoisting  sail  steered  his 
course  for  Illyria.* 

Reaching  that  country  without  incident,  the  King  re- 
ceived them  with  expressions  of  friendship,  entertaining 
them  bountifully  in  his  palace  for  many  days.  Nor  was 
this  all  nor  enough  to  satisfy  the  hospitable  heart  of  the 
half-savage  monarch.  Displaying  all  his  rich  treasures, 
he  provided  each  of  Alexander’s  companions  with  such 
varied  and  sumptuous  garments  as  his  rank  warranted 
or  his  fancy  inclined  him  to  select ; for  in  such  things  the 
Illyrian  King  was  rich  beyond  all  other  monarchs,  having 
in  his  service  many  staunch  piratical  ships  which  harried 
the  commerce  of  the  Ionian  Sea,  picking  that  which  was 
valuable  and  destroying  all  else. 

While  the  exiles  thus  lived  sumptuously  at  the  court  of 
the  Illyrian  King  Attains,  hearing  of  Alexander’s  pres- 
ence there,  sent  officers  demanding  that  he  be  given  up 

*Historians  generally  note  the  exile  of  Alexander  and  his  friends 
but  give  only  meager  details  of  their  sojourn  in  Epirus  or  the  cause 
of  their  flight  to  Illyria. 


Glaucus,  the  Barbarian 


381 


to  them  or  put  to  death.  In  view  of  this  the  Illyrian  King, 
being  now  at  peace  with  Macedonia,  advised  Alexander  to 
seek  a more  secure  retreat  far  from  the  sea,  in  the  im- 
penetrable fastnesses  of  his  kingdom.  Acquiescing  in 
this,  indifferent  to  his  mode  of  life,  he  thanked  the  mon- 
arch for  his  hospitality,  and  mounting  his  horse  set  out 
with  his  friends  as  the  King  advised.  Clitus  reflecting  on 
the  Illyrian’s  action,  exclaimed  that  it  was  cowardly  and 
lacking  in  friendship.  But  in  truth  the  whole  world 
feared  Philip’s  power  and  the  energy  with  which  he  pur- 
sued his  enemies.  So  that  the  hospitable  King,  whose 
ancestors  had  thought  it  a pastime  to  make  war  on  Mace- 
donia, now  went  out  of  his  way  to  evade  a conflict. 

Ascending  the  majestic  Drilo,  Alexander  at  last  reached 
the  domain  of  Glaucus,  the  Illyrian  chieftain  whose  ter- 
ritory lay  to  the  north  of  the  great  pass  that  crosses  the 
Scordus  Mountains  into  Macedonia.  This  warlike  and 
adventurous  chief,  while  hospitable  to  visitors,  was  seldom 
or  never  at  peace  with  his  neighbors.  Ravaging  their 
territory  when  opportunity  offered  or  his  temper  inclined, 
he  despoiled  them  of  all  they  had,  even  of  their  bodies. 
For  in  derision  and  to  keep  alive  the  animosities  of  his 
people,  he  used  the  skulls  of  his  enemies  for  drinking  cups 
and  lamps  and  other  useful  purposes  about  his  house. 
From  one  of  these  he  always  drank,  and  if  desirous  of 
honoring  a guest  asked  him  to  do  likewise. 

“They  are  the  skulls  of  chiefs  once  my  enemies,”  he 
would  exclaim  with  pride,  giving  the  names  of  the  unfor- 
tunate victims.  “Not  caught  in  ambush,  but  gathered 
one  and  all  on  the  field  of  battle.” 

Placed  here  and  there  about  the  interior  of  his  rude 


382 


Iskander 


castle,  the  flaming  wicks  of  flax  protruding  from  the  eye- 
less sockets,  gave  to  the  dimly  lighted  rooms  a grewsome 
appearance,  distressing  in  the  extreme  to  Hephestion  and 
the  more  tender  hearted  of  Alexander’s  companions. 

“The  handles  of  these  torches,”  he  would  go  on,  hold- 
ing one  up  to  view,  “like  the  lamps  and  drinking  cups,  are 
made  of  the  bones  of  enemies.  Thus  a shin  bone  that 
would  have  been  left  for  wolves  to  gnaw  I put  to  a good 
use,”  and  tapping  the  hollow  bone  his  bearded  face  would 
light  up  with  a grim  smile  at  thought  of  the  conflict  and 
the  number  of  enemies  slain  or  taken  captive. 

The  subjects  of  this  half  savage  chieftain  were  nowise 
different  from  their  master.  Rude  shepherds  clad  in  un- 
tanned hides  or  wild  boar  skins,  they  watched  their  flocks 
in  the  dark  windings  of  the  streams  or  on  the  sides  of 
the  rugged  mountains.  Maintaining  intact  the  tribal  re- 
lations of  primitive  days,  they  knew  no  master  but  their 
chief  nor  recognized  any  form  of  government  save  his 
will.  Fair  haired  and  blue-eyed,  they  received  strangers 
with  hospitality  and  looked  upon  the  beggars  that  infested 
the  country  as  the  elect  of  the  Gods.  Leading  uneventful 
lives,  war  was  to  them  at  once  a source  of  profit  and  a 
pastime.  Living  in  caves  or  rude  hovels  made  of  rough 
stones  or  unhewn  timber,  their  little  flocks  afforded  them 
food  and  raiment,  and  if  need  be  a medium  of  exchange. 
In  their  religion,  as  might  have  been  expected,  they  kept 
alive  the  savage  superstitions  and  customs  born  of  the 
solitude  and  wild  mythology  of  primeval  man.  Such 
were  the  Illyrians,  the  barbarians  of  the  north,  in  ancient 
times — the  Albanians  of  today. 

Among  these  primitive  children  Alexander  and  his 


Glaucus,  the  Barbarian  383 

friends  remained  many  months,  passing  the  time  in  hunt- 
ing the  savage  animals  that  had  their  home  in  the  moun- 
tains and  forests,  or  participated  in  the  rude  pastimes  O'f 
the  savage  chief.  This  with  some  show  of  contentment 
until  time  passing  they  noted  with  apprehension  the  prep- 
arations of  their  host  for  some  impending  war.  Not  as 
before,  but  on  a larger  scale,  as  if  against  a greater  enemy. 
Believing  this  portended  some  unfriendly  movement 
against  his  own  country,  Alexander,  consulting  his 
friends,  sought  an  early  excuse  for  taking  his  departure. 
Nor  too  soon,  as  it  presently  appeared,  for  riding  forth 
one  morning  with  his  friends  they  were  startled  by  the 
frenzied  cries  of  men  and  women  in  the  forest  near  at 
hand.  Turning  to  one  side  to  ascertain  the  cause,  they 
came  upon  the  chief  and  his  savage  priests  immolating 
the  victims  that  in  their  superstition  they  believed  neces- 
sary to  insure  victory  in  the  coming  war.  The  helpless 
creatures  thus  sacrificed  to  their  savage  belief  were  the 
pick  of  the  ancient  tribe,  consisting  of  three  young  and 
fair-haired  maidens  and  a like  number  of  comely  youths. 
And,  strangest  of  all,  and  in  dire  contrast,  three  black 
rams.  Horrified  at  the  distressing  sight  Alexander  and 
his  companions  turned  and  hurried  away,  the  cries  of  the 
murdered  victims  ringing  in  their  ears.  Returning  to  the 
rude  castle  of  the  savage  chief  they  donned  their  armor 
and  sat  down  to  await  his  coming.  Returning  presently, 
highly  pleased  at  the  successful  termination  of  the  sacri- 
fice, he  was  much  surprised  and  grieved  when  they  told 
him  of  their  determination  to  depart.  Nor  could  they 
themselves  contemplate  it  without  regret,  because  of  his 
generous  hospitality  and  unvarying  kindness.  Thanking 


384 


Iskander 


him  with  grateful  hearts,  they  presented  him  with  such 
loving  tokens  as  they  had,  in  further  evidence  of  their 
gratitude.  After  which,  bidding  him  adieu,  they 
mounted  their  horses  and  took  their  departure  with  many 
expressions  of  friendship  and  regret. 


Note:  Of  the  practice  of  the  Illyrian  barbarians  and  kindred 
people  of  sacrificing  human  beings  in  their  superstition,  historians 
make  frequent  mention.  Thus  in  the  particular  case  of  Kleitus, 
an  Illyrian  chief  who  made  war  on  Alexander  in  the  first  year  of 
the  latter^s  reign.  Alexander  fiercely  charging  his  enemy,  the  Illyri- 
ans retreating  behind  the  walls  of  Pelion,  abandoned  the  human  sacri- 
fices they  had  just  offered  up,  on  the  ground  before  the  gates  of  the 
city. 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 


WHAT  THE  KING  HEARD. 

Alexander’s  enemies  gaining  confidence  as  the  days 
passed,  sought  in  every  way  to  defame  his  character  and 
put  an  end  to  his  life.  First  it  was  whispered  about  the 
court  that  he  was  organizing  an  army  in  Epirus,  with  the 
connivance  of  the  Molossian  monarch,  to  invade  Mace- 
donia and  put  the  King  to  death.  This  story  proving  to 
be  untrue,  many  others  of  like  nature  took  its  place. 
Finally  it  was  said  that  the  Illyrian  King,  espousing  Alex- 
ander’s cause,  was  about  to  invade  the  country  with  a 
great  army  for  the  purpose  of  placing  the  exiled  Prince 
upon  the  throne.  Philip,  ever  prompt  in  action,  lost  no 
time  in  sending  spies  into  the  enemy’s  country  to  ascer- 
tain the  truthfulness  of  what  he  heard.  These  shortly  re- 
turning, reported  that  the  Illyrians  were  everywhere  col- 
lecting their  forces  for  the  invasion  of  Macedonia,  but 
whether  to  aid  Alexander  or  not  they  were  unable  to 
learn.  The  rumored  invasion  proving  to  be  true,  Philip 
instantly  made  preparations  to  repel  the  attack,  and  if  suc- 
cessful to  carry  the  war  into  the  enemy’s  country. 

While  the  King  was  thus  engaged  in  collecting  his 
army  it  came  to  the  ears  of  Amyntas  that  Clitus  had  re- 
turned to  Pella  and  lay  concealed  at  the  house  of  Par- 
cledes.  Bribing  a slave  of  the  Princess,  he  learned  that 
the  hardy  soldier  was  in  secret  conference  with  other  dis- 
affected subjects  of  the  King  and  that  meetings  were 

(385) 


386 


I s k a 11  d e 


held  nightly  to^  perfect  their  plans ; but  of  the  extent  of  the 
conspiracy,  or  who  was  in  it,  or  its  particulars,  the  slave 
could  tell  nothing.  It  was  enough  for  Amyntas  that  Clitus 
had  returned  without  the  sanction  of  the  King,  and  doing 
so  had  forfeited  his  life  and  the  lives  of  those  who  gave 
him  shelter.  Imparting  what  he  had  learned  to  the  Queen, 
and  magnifying  its  importance,  the  latter  lost  no  time  in 
informing  the  King.  Knowing  the  deep  love  the  army 
bore  Alexander,  Philip  was  greatly  disturbed,  and  it 
added  to  his  sorrow  that  Clitus,  whom  he  still  cherished, 
should  become  a party  to  so  base  an  act  of  rebellion.  Dis- 
trusting the  story  yet  believing  it  to  be  true,  he  knew 
not  what  to  do.  At  last,  fearing  longer  to  delay  action 
and  uncertain  whom  to  trust,  he  determined  to  go  himself 
and  inquire  into  the  matter,  and  if  need  be  arrest  the  con- 
spirators. Accordingly,  summoning  a troop  of  the  Com- 
panion cavalry,  he  left  the  city  after  nightfall,  and  reach- 
ing Parcledes’  house  stationed  the  soldiers  about  the  place, 
so  that  no  one  could  escape.  Dismounting  he  advanced 
alone,  and  reaching  the  hut  was  admitted  by  the  slave 
whom  Amyntas  had  bribed.  Secreting  himself  in  a dark 
room  adjoining  that  in  which  the  conspirators  met,  he 
waited  with  angry  impatience  the  disclosure  of  the  con- 
spiracy. Nor  was  it  long  before  voices  were  heard,  and 
among  them  that  of  Clitus,  apprising  the  King  that  his 
visit  was  not  in  vain.  Assured  now  of  the  truthfulness 
of  what  he  had  heard,  Philip,  releasing  his  dagger,  threw 
himself  down  beside  the  closed  door  to  await  the  dis- 
closure of  the  plot.  Presently,  Orestes  entering  the  ad- 
joining room,  with  Jaron,  Clitus,  springing  up,  hastened 
to  them,  crying  out: 


387 


What  the  King  Heard 

“Greeting,  good  leech ; and  you,  Orestes,  doubly  a vic- 
tim oi  war  and  ambuscade.  But  is  it  as  bad  as  this,”  he 
went  on  as  Orestes  advanced,  assisted  by  Jaron,  “do  your 
wounds  show  no  sign  of  healing,  my  brave  comrade?” 

“The  wound  received  in  the  winter  battle  was  not  a 
thing  to  have  troubled  him,”  the  leech  interposed,  “had 
not  the  poisoned  javelin  of  Amyntas  tainted  the  blood 
and  so  opened  the  old  sore  afresh.”  * 

“ ’Twas  a cowardly  blow,  and  he  who  gave  it  deserved 
death,  but  being  a Prince  and  in  the  King’s  favor  naught 
was  said,”  Clitus  exclaimed  bitterly. 

“Nay,  he  was  everywhere  praised  for  the  act  by  the 
faithful,  so  adroit  was  his  story,”  Jaron  mildly  replied. 

“While  poor  Orestes,  hidden  away  and  making  no  sign, 
was  condemned  unheard,”  Eurydice  interposed,  casting  a 
loving  glance  on  the  attractive  youth. 

“Oh,  oh!  Does  the  wind  blow  that  way  after  these 
many  months?  Amyntas’  blow  was  not  so  unfortunate 
after  all,  it  appears,”  Clitus  exclaimed  under  his  breath, 
as  he  watched  the  lovers  clasp  hands  beneath  the  flowing 
drapery  of  their  garments.  “But  tell  me,  Orestes,”  he 
went  on  reflectively,  “what  speech  passed  between  you 
and  Amyntas  that  afternoon  as  we  sat  on  our  horses  pa- 
tiently awaiting  his  movements.  I have  often  thought  to 
question  you,  but  forgot  it,  as  I am  apt  to  do  with  lesser 
things.” 

To  this  inquiry  Orestes  offering  some  opposition,  Eury- 
dice cried  out ; 

“Tell  him,  Orestes,  that  your  name  may  be  cleared  in 
the  eyes  of  the  Prince  and  his  friends.  For  the  ungrate- 
ful King  I care  naught.” 


388 


Iskander 


Whereupon,  being  thus  urged,  Orestes  told  all  that  < 
Amyntas  had  said,  as  recounted  in  the  opening  chapter 
of  this  story. 

“ ’Tis  as  I thought  at  the  time,  yet  could  do  naught,” 
Clitus  exclaimed  when  the  other  had  finished.  “This  is 
the  Prince,  good  friends,  whom  our  simple  King  trusts 
before  his  own  son  and  the  faithful  officers  of  his  army,” 
he  went  on  with  angry  speech.  “But  it  is  clear  enough, 
Orestes,  that  ’twas  not  what  you  said  that  precipitated 
the  blow.  What  was  it  then  ?”  he  concluded,  meditatively. 

At  this  Orestes,  coloring,  would  say  nothing,  until  at 
last  Eurydice,  adding  her  importunities  to  those  of  the 
others,  he  answered: 

“Amyntas  has  ever  treasured  a bitter  hatred  against 
Alexander,  and  at  Cheronea,  riding  behind  the  Prince,  he 
sought  to  transfix  him  with  his  lance  and,  I being  a wit- 
ness to  the  act,  his  hatred  was  also  directed  towards  me.” 

“To  assassinate  the  Prince!”  everyone  exclaimed  in 
amazement. 

“Yes,  and  seeing  him  poise  his  spear  for  the  stroke  I 
cried  out  in  horror  as  I sought  to  prevent  the  crime,  but 
ere  I could  grasp  the  weapon  he  had  thrown  the  mis- 
sile.” 

“And  Alexander?”  Clitus  cried,  holding  his  breath. 

“The  Prince,  as  the  Gods  would  have  it,  stooping  at 
the  moment  to  rescue  a companion,  the  spear  passed  high 
above  his  head.  Flying  thus  unobstructed,  it  struck  the 
Theban  general,  killing  him  on  the  spot.” 

“Beard  of  Cyclops ! I have  been  some  use  to  the  state, 
for  it  was  I the  Prince  reached  down  to  save,”  Clitus 
cried  when  he  could  regain  his  voice. 


389 


What  thQ  King  Heard 

^ ^'Yes/'  Orestes  answered,  “and  except  for  your  being 

under  the  horse’s  feet  and  the  Prince  espying  you,  Amyn- 
tas’  lance  had  certainly  killed  him.” 

“The  Gods  be  praised,”  Clitus  fervently  responded. 

“Nor  is  that  all  or  half  the  villainy  of  this  treasonable 
and  murderous  Prince,”  Jaron  interrupted  in  his  mild 
voice,  “for  it  was  Amyntas,  aided  by  Attains,  who  planned 
the  scene  at  the  banquet  that  so  nearly  cost  the  King  and 
Alexander  their  lives,  though  Attains  thought  that  only 
the  Prince  was  to  be  put  to  death.” 

“How  know  you  this?”  Clitus  cried,  amazed. 

“That  I cannot  divulge,”  Jaron  answered,  evading  a di- 
rect reply.  “It  is  enough  that  I was  privy  to  it  through 
those  I served.  But  being  a stranger  in  Pella  and  having 
little  interest  in  the  matter  I did  nothing  save  to  privately 
warn  you  to  go  armed  to  the  feast.” 

“Eye  of  Cyclops ! I remember  well  the  mysterious  mes- 
sage, and  taking  the  hint  went  armed,  as  did  the  Prince 
and  his  friends,  Eufnenes  and  Leonidas.  Except  for  that 
the  King  would  certainly  have  been  put  to  death  ere  suc- 
cor could  have  reached  him.” 

“Put  to  death,  say  you?”  Orestes  exclaimed,  his  pale 
face  flushing  at  the  other’s  recital. 

“Yes,  for  detecting  a conspiracy  when  the  lamps  were 
extinguished,  the  Prince  rushed  to  Philip’s  side  crying 
‘the  King!  the  King!!’  and  we  following,  the  conspira- 
tors could  by  no  means  beat  down  our  defense,  and  so 
were  unable  to  reach  either  Alexander  or  the  King,  who 
lay  insensible  on  the  floor.  Thus  we  stood  about  Philip’s 
body  until  Antipater,  reaching  the  scene,  the  conspirators 
drew  off,  continuing  their  cry  of  ‘Treason.’  ” 


5 


390  Iskander 

“Another  thing  that  incensed  Philip  against  his  son 
more  than  the  attempt  on  his  life  was  the  story  told  him 
that  the  Prince  was  enamored  of  Cleopatra  and  visited  her 
on  the  day  of  the  King’s  arrival  for  the  purpose  of  press- 
ing his  suit,  knowing  she  was  pledged  to  his  father,” 
Jaron  exclaimed,  interrogating  Clitus  with  his  searching 
eyes. 

“ ’Twas  a foul  lie,”  Clitus  answered  enraged.  “He 
went  to  her  house  to  press  Pausanias’  suit,  knowing  noth- 
ing of  the  King’s  purpose.  No  ! Alexander  would  not 
have  wed  Cleopatra  had  he  been  promised  the  sovereignty 
of  the  world,  his  heart  being  already  pledged  to  another,” 
he  concluded,  glancing  at  Parcledes. 

“Why  has  the  King  not  been  told  then,  if  Alexander 
and  his  companions  are  blameless?”  Eurydice  asked  in 
her  childlike  faith. 

“What  good  ?”  Clitus  answered  scoffingly.  “He  would 
not  believe  us.  Time  was  when  the  King  was  not  so 
simple;  but  ’tis  bad  for  those  about  when  old  men  fall 
in  love.  It  blinds  the  sharpest  eyes,  they  say,  and  Philip, 
having  but  one,  is  the  more  easily  fooled.  But  good  night, 
sweet  Princess,  and  you,  my  friends,”  he  went  on,  rising 
to  his  feet.  “Much  talk  has  made  me  sleepy,  and  I have 
far  to  go  on  the  morrow  and  a heart  that  will  not  make 
the  distance  less,”  and  gathering  up  his  hat  and  cloak 
he  retired  without  further  words.  His  example  being 
shortly  followed  by  the  others,  for  it  was  now  late,  silence 
and  darkness  quickly  succeeded  the  animated  scene. 

Whai  all  were  gone  Philip  rose  to  his  feet,  his  form 
sliaking  as  with  the  ague.  Indeed,  so  weak  and  trembling 
v/as  he  with  horror  and  rage  that  he  had  scarce  strength 


391 


What  the  King  Heard 

to  leave  the  house  or  mount  his  horse.  Returning  slowly 
to  Pella,  he  meditated,  sometimes  in  anger  but  more  often 
in  sorrow,  on  what  he  had  heard.  Reaching  the  fortress, 
he  dispatched  a messenger  for  Parmenio,  his  general,  and 
announced  his  intention  of  setting  out  for  the  seat  of  the 
Illyrian  war  at  daylight.  Giving  directions  for  his  escort 
to  be  ready  he  sought  his  room,  denying  admission  to  all 
save  the  attendant  pages. 

Note  : Historians  refer,  but  not  at  any  length,  to  this  campaign 
of  Philip  against  the  Illyrian  King  Pleurias,  on  the  eve  of  the  great 
festival. 


CHAPTER  XXX. 


ON  THE  BATTLE  FIELD. 

Driven  from  Epirus  and  scarcely  less  welcome  in  Illy- 
ria, Alexander  at  last  determined  to  return  to  his  own 
country.  There,  amid  the  mountains  and  wooded  soli- 
tudes of  Orestis,  Clitus  promised  him  a secure  retreat 
among  the  loyal  adherents  of  his  ancient  tribe.  Crossing 
the  Scordus  mountains  with  his  companions,  they  accord- 
ingly directed  their  steps  toward  the  South.  But  ere  they 
had  proceeded  a day’s  journey  great  was  their  surprise  to 
encounter  Philip’s  spies,  some  of  whom  Alexander  had 
similarly  employed  in  theThracian  and  Grecian  campaigns. 
From  them  Alexander  learned  that  the  King  was  hasten- 
ing at  the  head  of  his  army  to  attack  the  Illyrian  King 
Pleurias,  who  had  declared  war  and  was  then  on  the  bord- 
ers of  the  kingdom.  Nor  was  it  probable,  they  thought, 
that  a battle  would  be  long  delayed ; and  so  it  turned  out. 

Advised  in  this  way  of  the  presence  of  the  King  and 
the  direction  of  his  march  Alexander  followed  after  with 
his  companions,  awaiting  the  event  of  the  conflict.  When 
at  last  the  forces  encountered  each  other  in  battle  Alex- 
ander was  some  distance  away,  and  so  did  not  reach  the 
field  until  the  conflict  had  been  some  time  in  progress. 
But  opportunely  as  it  appeared,  for  the  King’s  troops  wa- 
vering under  the  savage  onslaught  of  the  Illyrian  forces, 
Alexander  and  his  companions  emerging  from  the  forest, 

(392) 


On  the  Battle  Field 


393 


charged  them  at  headlong  speed,  and  with  such  fury  that 
the  enemy,  unable  to  withstand  the  shock,  and  thinking 
unexpected  reinforcements  had  arrived,  turned  and  fled 
in  wild  disorder. 

Returning  from  the  pursuit,  Alexander  crossed  the  field 
of  battle,  and  doing  so  was  astonished  beyond  measure  to 
come  upon  Glaucus,  the  Illyrian  who  had  so  recently  be- 
friended him.  This  unconquerable  chief,  recognizing  him, 
made  no  sign,  but  stood  amid  the  remnant  of  his  tribe, 
his  head  high  aloft  in  savage  defiance  of  the  enemies  who 
surrounded  him.  Dismounting  in  haste,  Alexander  em- 
braced him  with  tender  expressions  of  friendship,  ex- 
claiming : 

“ ’Tis  a sorry  sight,  courageous  chief,  and  grieves  me 
to  the  heart  to  find  you  thus  a captive  among  your  ene- 
mies. You  who  but  a day  ago  afforded  me  and  my  friends 
the  shelter  and  hospitality  of  your  country.” 

“ ’Tis  the  fate  of  war,  oh  Prince,  and  why  may  not 
my  skull  light  an  enemy  to  bed  as  well  as  another’s,”  he 
answered,  referring  to  his  practice  of  using  his  enemy’s 
skulls  in  this  way. 

“Alas,  that  would  be  but  a sorry  return  for  your  gen- 
erous hospitality.  Surely  the  King  will  not  thus  repay 
your  great  kindness,”  Alexander  answered,  deeply  moved. 

“Nay,  ’tis  not  likely  he  will  grant  me  favor,  for  I have 
ever  been  the  first  to  set  foot  on  his  domain  when  war 
was  on,”  Glaucus  exclaimed,  unmoved. 

“The  King  slays  not  those  who  yield  nor  ■'dsits  upon 
his  enemies  the  memory  of  conflicts  past,”  Alexander  an- 
swered confidently. 

“To  be  killed  is  naught,  but  I like  not  these  thongs,” 


394 


I skander 


the  chieftain  replied,  gazing  with  sorrow  on  his  bonds. 
“They  too  surely  forecast  the  slave  market  and  a life  of 
servitude.  Let  him  slay  me!  I care  not.  ’Tis  the  other 
I fear,”  he  went  on,  contemplating  his  shackled  limbs. 

Cutting  the  cords  with  his  sword  and  bidding  his  com- 
panions to  do  the  same  with  Glaucus’  tribesmen,  Alexan- 
der cried  out : 

“I  will  claim  your  freedom  of  the  King  as  the  measure 
of  our  reward  if  we  have  done  aught  this  day  to  merit 
favor  in  his  eyes,”  and  embracing  the  stalwart  chieftain 
he  hastened  to  find  the  King. 

Philip,  who  knew  not  the  source  from  whence  the  time- 
ly aid  had  come,  stood  alone  before  his  tent  as  Alexander 
approached.  Recognizing  his  son  as  he  drew  near,  he 
stirred  not,  astonished  and  overcome  at  the  unexpected 
meeting.  Hurrying  forward,  intent  upon  his  errand  of 
mercy,  Alexander  would  have  fallen  upon  his  knees,  but 
the  King,  reaching  out,  caught  him  in  his  arms  and  kiss- 
ing him  exclaimed ; 

“Not  so  do  I receive  you,  my  brave  and  loyal  son,  but 
on  my  very  heart  as  in  the  days  when  we  were  one.” 

Embracing  his  father  in  return,  deeply  affected  by  his 
greeting,  Alexander  for  some  time  could  make  no  re- 
sponse. At  last,  overcoming  his  emotion,  he  made  known 
his  request  and  the  reason  therefor,  praying  the  King  to 
do  as  he  asked. 

“What !”  Philip  screamed  in  rage,  “release  that  untam- 
able savage,  that  mountain  rat,  who  gnaws  my  grain 
sacks  and  runs  off  my  cattle  when  open  war  does  not 
unsheathe  his  l)loody  sword  I But  have  your  way;  ’twas 
a kindness  he  did  you  and  one  I would  repay  with  a 


On  the  Battle  Field 


395 


province,  were  he  to  ask  it,”  the  King  went  on,  his  mood 
changing,  delighted  at  being  able  to  do  Alexander  a 
service. 

Falling  on  his  knees  Alexander  kissed  the  King’s  hand 
in  grateful  thanks,  begging  that  he  would  lose  no  time 
in  fulfilling  the  act  of  mercy.  And  on  the  King’s  giving 
orders  for  the  release  of  Glaucus  and  his  adherents,  Alex- 
ander sought  permission  to  accompany  the  messenger  in 
person.  Doing  so,  he  restored  to  the  chief  his  arms,  and 
then  tenderly  embracing  him  bade  him  adieu  with  many 
expressions  of  sincere  regard.  This  duty  of  friendship 
performed,  Alexander  hastened  to  the  King’s  side  to  ask 
respecting  the  doings  at  Pella,  but  more  than  all  of  his 
love,  Roxana,  about  whom  he  had  heard  nothing  for 
many  weeks.  The  King,  knowing  nothing  of  Alexander’s 
having  wed  the  Princess,  answered  bluntly: 

“That  sweet  woman,  worthy  to  be  Queen  of  all  the 
world,  is,  ere  this,  far  on  her  way  to  her  own  country.” 

“To  her  own  country,  oh  King!  Have  you  then  sent 
her  away?”  Alexander  asked  with  choked  voice,  his  heart 
standing  still. 

“Yes,  with  her  father,  the  noble  Oxyartes,  but  with 
every  honor  and  upon  my  own  ship,  suitably  convoyed, 
that  all  the  world  might  see  the  high  regard  in  which  I 
hold  her,”  the  King  responded  with  animation. 

“ ’Twas  an  honor  well  bestowed,”  Alexander  answered 
after  a while,  his  heart  overflowing. 

“The  Athenian  fleet  spreading  all  its  sails  and  manned 
by  the  Grecian  admiral  would  not  have  been  too  much.” 

“But  it  was  reported,”  the  Prince  went  on,  regaining 


396 


I skander 


somewhat  his  composure,  “that  she  was  much  set  upon 
by  my  enemies  about  the  court,  and  that  her  father  was 
not  able  to  shield  her  from  the  harassment.” 

“By  the  Gods,  I knew  naught  of  such  a thing,”  the 
King  answered  astonished,  “and  well  it  was  that  I did 
not,  if  it  be  true,  for  of  all  women  living  or  dead  none 
have  I ever  more  esteemed.” 

“Well  you  may,  oh  King,  for  she  is  the  pearl  of  all 
women,”  Alexander  answered  with  rapturous  passion. 

“Yes,  and  believing  it  to  be  so  I thrice  offered  her  the 
crown,  promising  to  banish  all  others  if  she  would  become 
my  wife,”  Philip  exclaimed,  his  face  flushing  at  the  recol- 
lection. 

Hearing  this  Alexander  half  drew  his  sword,  so  great 
was  his  surprise  and  rage,  but  Philip,  putting  his  hand 
aside,  cried  out : 

“Fret  not  your  heart,  my  son,  nor  let  anger  stir  you 
because  of  what  I did,  for  it  but  proved  the  faithfulness 
of  her  love  for  you.  Not  the  crown  of  Macedonia,  nor  of 
Greece,  nor  Persia,  nor  all  of  them  together,  which  I 
offered  her,  drew  from  her  aught  but  a refusal,”  the 
King  exclaimed,  his  face  clouding  at  the  remembrance  of 
the  cruel  rebuff. 

“Your  offer  surely,  oh  King,  was  not  made  to  tempt 
her?”  Alexander  exclaimed,  amazed,  scarce  crediting 
what  the  other  said. 

“No,  nor  to  feed  an  idle  fancy,  as  I am  sometimes  like 
to  do.  For  she  is  of  such  grace  and  virtue  that  I,  Philip, 
not  less  than  other  men,  was  sobered  by  the  contact.  Re- 
fusing me  thrice  as  I say,  I sent  her  back  to  Persia  in  all 


On  the  Battle  Field 


397 


honor,  mourning  her  departure  with  a sore  heart,”  the 
great  King  answered  with  deep  emotion. 

“Brave,  gracious,  sweetest  of  all  women!”  Alexander 
murmured,  hiding  his  face  in  his  hands  to  conceal  the 
tears  that  filled  his  eyes. 

“Yes,  and  wortliy  to  be  your  Queen,  when  you  shall 
reign.  But  ’tis  not  fit  that  you  should  wed  her  now, 
for  it  would  destroy  your  chance  of  mounting  the  throne 
to  wed  a Persian  Princess ; and  that  were  a foolish  waste. 
You  may  win  and  have  her,  but  first  you  must  conquer 
Persia.” 

“Conquer  Persia!  I!”  Alexander  exclaimed,  staring 
at  the  King  astonished. 

“Yes,  you,  Alexander,”  the  King  continued,  smiling 
grimly. 

“And  you  ? I thought  it  the  crowning  ambition  of  your 
life,”  Alexander  exclaimed,  stirred  to  the  heart  by  what 
the  King  said. 

“So  it  was  and  would  be  were  you  absent.  Now  I will 
lead  my  armies  no  further  than  Asiatic  Greece.  ’Tis  for 
you  to  do  the  rest,  for  distracted  and  warring  Greece 
claims  my  presence  here.  Remaining  and  encouraging 
those  who  strive  and  putting  down  with  an  iron  hand  the 
demagogues  and  agitators,”  he  -went  on  with  animated 
voice,  “I  will  consolidate  the  political  atoms  of  that  great 
country  and  make  of  it  an  empire.  Thus  I will  build  up 
a mighty  power,  and  Greece,  being  freed  from  its  jeal- 
ousies and  petty  aspirations,  may  pursue  the  lofty  aims  it 
has  babbled  of  these  three  hundred  years  or  more.  In  this 
labor  I will  make  Demosthenes  my  minister,  Alexander, 


398 


Iskander 


for  he  only  among  the  Athenians  is  truly  great.  He  only 
comprehended  me  from  the  first.  He  only  has  always  op- 
posed me.  He  only  strove  to  consolidate  the  Grecian  pow- 
er and  so  stay  my  arms.  But  his  countrymen,  while  they 
listened,  spell  bound,  would  not  follow  talk  with  warlike 
action.” 

“But  Demosthenes  is  the  enemy  of  our  country,  the 
disbursing  agent  of  the  Persian  King,”  Alexander  quer- 
ied. 

“Whatever  he  may  have  been  matters  not.  He  only 
comprehends  events.  He  only  saw  from  the  first  that  I 
meditated  the  subjugation  of  Greece,  and  that  only  by 
staying  my  hand  could  Athens  remain  independent.  He 
only  is  worthy  to  be  my  minister  or  thine,  and  with  his 
help  I will  unite  the  severed  parts  of  Greece  and-  quiet  its 
centuries  of  internal  hatreds.” 

“No  one  less  wise,  less  strong  than  you,  oh  King,  can 
achieve  so  great  an  undertaking.  Nor  do  I believe  it  pos- 
sible with  such  agents  as  Demosthenes.  New  men  must 
be  sought.  All  those  who  direct  Grecian  thought  must 
be  swept  away.  They  are  mere  dreamers  and  talkers. 
Men  of  the  past.  They  cannot  see  that  Greece  must  suc- 
cumb at  last  to  Rome,  or  some  still  more  barbarous  peo- 
ple without  our  unity  and  warlike  strength;  that,  alone, 
Greece  will  be  torn  asunder  piece-meal,  and  so,  at  last, 
enslaved ; and  by  an  alien  and  cruel  race,”  Alexander  ex- 
claimed, excited  by  the  thought. 

“It  shall  be  my  duty  to  achieve  this,  and  if  Demos- 
thenes and  the  others  hang  back — refuse  us  comradeship 
— I will  put  them  aside  and  destroy  them,  as  I have  every 


On  the  Battle  Field 


399 


impediment  that  has  obstructed  my  path.*  It  is  my  office 
to  c^uiet  Grecian  animosities  and  bind  up  her  wounds.  It 
is  yours  to  conquer  and  govern  Persia,  sharing  her  abund- 
ant riches  with  our  impoverished  country,”  the  King 
cried,  contemplating  the  work  with  exaltation. 

“And  afterwards?” 

“Afterwards,”  the  King  continued,  musing,  “after- 
wards, when  I am  dead,  you  will  consolidate  the  two  king- 
doms, governing  both.  Thus,”  he  went  on,  his  face  light- 
ing up,  “the  poor  groundling,  Macedonia,  will,  in  the  end, 
dominate  the  world.” 

Such  were  the  lofty  aims  of  the  great  King,  so  fertile  in 
planning,  so  prompt  in  execution,  so  wise  in  governing. 
But  alas,  poor  monarch,  he  was  not  to  accomplish  his 
mighty  aims,  and  so  both  Greece  and  Persia,  which  could 
spare  neither  Philip  nor  Alexander,  were  to  lose  the  ad- 
vantage of  their  united  lives,  and  in  the  end  be  little  bene- 
fited by  the  efforts  of  either. 

*This  wholesale  obliteration  of  Athenian  and  other  Grecian  ob- 
structionists was  afterwards  carried  out  by  the  successors  of  Philip 
and  Alexander.  But,  alas,  by  men  not  having  either  their  exalted 
courage  or  genius  for  government,  nor  having  the  confidence  of 
Macedonia.  And  so  it  was  without  avail,  and  Greece  went  on  pal- 
tering and  jabbering  to  her  destruction. 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 


THE  DEATH  OF  PHILIP. 

Leaving  now  the  domain  of  romance  of  which,  indeed, 
little  use  has  been  made,  there  remains  not  much  to  tell 
save  that  which  historians  have  loved  to  dwell  upon  for 
two  thousand  years  and  more.  And,  fitly  enough,  it  is 
amid  the  resplendent  scenery  of  Edessa,  the  ancient  cap- 
ital of  Macedonia,  that  our  story  nears  its  close.  Here, 
four  hundred  years  before,  Perdiccas,  the  first  of  the  line 
of  Dorian  Kings,  erected  his  citadel  on  the  precipitous 
cliff  and  established  his  capital  in  the  grassgrown  valley 
below.  Beside  the  castle  walls  the  trickling  mountain 
streams  at  last  converging,  plunged  from  the  dizzy 
heights  in  glittering  cascades  to  the  foaming  depths  be- 
low. There,  divided  anew,  the  refreshing  supply  watered 
the  ancient  city  and  fertile  plains  beyond,  forming  at  last 
the  never-failing  supply  of  Pella  and  its  adjacent  river. 
Within  an  arrow’s  flight  of  the  ancient  citadel  and  com- 
manded by  its  rugged  walls,  the  time-worn  pass  that  con- 
nected the  mountains  and  plains  of  Macedonia  wound  its 
devious  way.  Just  as  at  a later  day,  when  the  last  Mace- 
donian King  was  overcome,  it  connected  Rome  with  its 
subjugated  provinces  in  the  East. 

Philip  returning  in  all  haste  from  the  Illyrian  cam- 
paign, found  the  historic  city  crowded  with  distinguished 
visitors,  impatiently  awaiting  the  events  of  the  great  fes- 

(400) 


401 


The  Death  of  Philip 

tival.  All  the  nobles  and  landed  proprietors  of  Mace- 
donia who  could  afford  a cloak  or  decent  coat  were  there, 
their  slender  purses  strained  to  the  utmost  to  make  a 
notable  display.  The  Grecian  states  and  cities,  anxious 
to  conciliate  the  rising  power  of  the  North,  each  sent  their 
foremost  citizens  to  do  homage  to  the  mighty  King.  From 
Thrace  and  the  wild  countries  to  the  north  and  west  came 
barbaric  Kings  and  Princes,  attended  by  their  savage 
chiefs  and  allies.  Dressed  in  picturesque  attire,  resplend- 
ent with  color,  they  offered  humble  obeisance  to  the 
mighty  warrior  who  beat  back  their  invading  forces  with 
iron  hand  as  the  bear  overcomes  and  crushes  its  less  pow- 
erful enemies. 

Among  the  savage  chieftains  who  thus  came  to  do 
honor  to  the  King  was  Glaucus,  the  Illyrian.  Nor  came 
he  empty  handed,  but  with  drinking  cups  and  staffs  for 
torches,  some  of  which,  as  he  privately  explained  to  Alex- 
ander, he  had  been  so  fortunate  as  to  collect  since  the  lat- 
ter’s visit.  All  these  he  presented  to  Philip  in  person,  and 
doing  so  thanked  him  for  his  leniency  after  the  recent  bat- 
tle. At  which  the  King,  much  pleased,  patted  the  cheek 
of  the  savage  chieftain  and  smiled  upon  him,  delighted 
with  his  person  and  the  singular  presents  he  brought. 

Philip,  all  unconscious  of  his  impending  fate  and  de- 
spising his  enemies  as  in  the  past,  had  invited  Olympias, 
the  implacable  Queen,  to  return  to  Macedonia  to  witness 
the  marriage  of  her  daughter  to  the  Molossian  King.  For 
it  was  this  event,  intended  to  cement  the  bonds  of  peace 
between  Macedonia  and  Epirus,  not  less  than  the  cele- 
bration of  the  birth  of  a son  by  Cleopatra,  that  was  the 
occasion  and  excuse  for  the  great  festival. 


402 


I skander 


Of  the  conspiracy  divulged  while  he  lay  concealed  in 
the  darkened  room  of  Parcledes’  hut,  the  King  thought 
not  at  all.  Filled  with  anger  and  shame  on  that  eventful 
night,  he  had  returned  to  his  palace  vowing  vengeance 
against  all  his  enemies.  But  first  the  invasion  of  the  Illy- 
rian King  must  be  met  and  crushed ; afterwards  he  would 
mete  out  punishment  to  the  conspirators  who  took  advan- 
tage of  his  complaisant  disposition.  But  now,  returning 
amidst  the  preparations  for  the  great  festival,  he  put  off 
his  resolve  until  a later  day,  unwilling  that  the  world 
should  witness  the  internal  dissensions  of  his  kingdom. 

The  conspirators,  all  unaware  that  their  treason  was 
known  to  the  King,  renewed  their  plotting,  emboldened  by 
the  impunity  of  the  past  and  the  confusion  attendant  upon 
the  great  festival.  Amyntas,  whose  impatience  and  ha- 
tred grew  with  the  passing  years,  lost  no  opportunity  to 
stir  the  enemies  of  the  King  to  fresh  endeavors.  To  the 
Lyncestian  Princes  he  gave  gold  and  costly  presents,  sup- 
plied from  the  abundant  treasures  of  the  Persian  agent, 
Mithrines.  These  he  promised  to  follow  by  coveted 
preferment  and  alluring  honors  when  he  should  mount 
the  throne.  Most  of  all  he  excited  anew  the  jealousy  and 
rage  of  Pausanias  against  the  King,  because  of  the  latter’s 
refusal  to  redress  a hideous  and  unnamable  outrage  At- 
tains had  committed  on  the  person  of  the  young  noble. 
Now,  Attains  being  in  Asia  on  the  King’s  affairs,  and  so 
beyond  reach,  Amyntas  directed  all  Pausanias’  hatred 
against  Philip  for  having  refused  him  redress  and  other- 
wise honoring  his  oppressor.  In  this  way  the  young 
noble’s  discontent  and  rage,  which  was  of  long  standing, 
because  of  his  vanity  and  unsatisfied  cravings,  was  awak- 
ened into  new  and  bitter  life. 


403 


The  Death  of  Philip 

Nor  was  the  savage  and  relentless  Olympias  idle.  Call- 
ing to  her  side  all  who'  had  a grievance,  she  inflamed  each 
with  a desire  for  vengeance,  promising  redress  of  every 
wrong  once  the  King  were  dead.  Her  instruments  were 
those  of  Amyntas  and  the  end  the  same,  except  that 
Alexander  and  not  the  other  was  to  become  King.  Of 
this,  however,  she  said  nothing,  save  to  those  whose  in- 
terests coincided  with  her  own.  But  of  all  those  she 
sought  as  agents,  only  the  weak  and  vacillating  Pausanias 
could  be  prevailed  upon  to  openly  venture,  and  he  re- 
luctantly. Calling  him  to  her  side  as  the  eventful  day 
drew  near,  she  applied  all  her  arts  to  win  him  over. 

“You  have  many  and  sore  grievances,  Pausanias,”  she 
cried.  “One  loathsome  and  unappeasable.  Attains’  work. 
As  if  that  were  not  enough,  the  harlot  Cleopatra  openly 
scorns  you,  each  day  devising  some  new  indignity  to  hu- 
miliate and  wound  you.  Attains,  who  has  most  harmed 
you  and  honored  above  all  men  by  the  King,  you  cannot 
reach.  But  Philip,  who  protects  him  and  so  deprives  you 
of  redress,  is  at  your  mercy.  Killing  him  you  will  put  an 
end  to  the  lives  of  those  who  pursue  you  with  scorn  and 
malignant  hatred,  for  not  one  shall  survive  him,  I swear 
by  all  the  Gods!” 

“You  promise  this?”  Pausanias  cried,  his  eyes  gleam- 
ing with  hatred. 

“Yes,  death  tO'  them  and  all  honor  tO'  you,  Pausanias, 
for  you  shall  have  wealth,  position  and  the  fame  you 
crave.  All  these  you  may  achieve,  and  quickly,  by  put- 
ting the  monster  to  death,”  she  answered,  her  passion 
choking  her  voice. 

“ ’Tis  not  an  easy  thing  to  do,”  he  answered,  his  face 


404 


Iskander 


covered  with  sweat,  “for  the  King  goes  not  abroad  un- 
guarded.” 

“Are  you  not  one  of  the  guard  and  high  in  rank  ?”  she 
cried  impatiently.  “Today,  tomorrow,  the  day  of  the  vain 
display,  the  opportunity  may  be  offered  you.  Cease  then 
your  complainings  of  wrongs  unredressed  and  right  them 
by  a brave  and  manly  deed.” 

“But  how,  oh  Queen  ? Show  me  a way,  for  I can  see 
none,”  he  answered,  somewhat  impatiently. 

“Have  you  not  a sword,  or  better  still  a dagger?  Do 
you  fear  to  do  what  others  with  less  cause  have  done?” 
she  answered  bitterly.  “The  deed  committed,  mount  your 
horse  and  fly.  The  mountains  afford  you  a secure  retreat. 
Afterwards  when  Alexander  is  seated  on  the  throne  you 
may  return  to  receive  the  honors  and  riches  which  I will 
bestow  upon  you,”  she  concluded,  and  in  this  promise,  as 
in  all  the  acts  of  the  great  Queen,  there  was  no  trick 
or  mental  reservation. 

“Having  access  to  the  King  I may  kill  him  as  you  say, 
but  what  will  it  avail  me  if  the  next  moment  my  body  lies 
pierced  by  a hundred  spears,”  Pausanias  answered  little 
moved. 

“Fool ! Have  you  no  courage  ? No  head  to  plan  ? Learn 
a lesson  from  the  brave  men  who  put  Jason  to  death. 
Striking  him  down,  surrounded  by  his  army,  they  sought 
safety  in  flight  and  so  saved  themselves  and  destroyed 
an  implacable  foe,  as  you  may  do,”  Olympias  exclaimed 
with  savage  energy. 

“If  the  deed  be  done  ’twill  be  for  you  to  plan,  oh  Queen, 
for  you  gain  more  by  the  King’s  death  than  I,”  Pausanias 
answered  sullenly. 


405 


The  Death  of  Philip 

“The  planning  is  a simple  thing  if,  finding  a way,  you 
lose  not  heart  when  the  time  comes,”  Olympias  exclaimed, 
interrogating  him  with  flaming  eyes. 

“Find  me  but  a way  to  escape  when  the  deed  is  done 
and  I will  kill  him  were  he  a thousand  times  the  King,” 
Pausanias  responded  excited  by  the  thought. 

“Killing  him  you  will  have  achieved  your  wish  of  eter- 
nal fame,  and,  the  monster  dead,  the  cowardly  enemies 
who  make  you  the  scorn  of  women  and  the  derision  of 
men,  being  powerless,  you  may  work  your  will  on  them. 
This,  I swear,”  Olympias  cried,  exciting  his  vanity  and 
desire  for  revenge. 

“But  having  done  the  deed  if  you  were  afterwards  to 
abandon  me?”  the  poor  wretch  exclaimed,  his  doubts  re- 
turning. 

“Coward!  Has  Olympias  ever  abandoned  a loyal 
friend?  Ever  foregone  a revengeful  purpose?  Ever  done 
less  than  her  plighted  word?  For  shame  to  doubt  me,” 
she  cried  with  furious  anger. 

“The  attempt  will  avail  nothing,”  he  answered  despond- 
ently. “Others  have  sought  to  kill  him  and  perished  mis- 
erably. My  dagger  was  upraised  to  strike  him  and  yet  he 
lives.  Foremost  in  a hundred  battles,  beguiled,  entrapped, 
a fugitive,  yet  he  escaped.  No!  no!  ’Twere  an  idle  at- 
tempt and  I will  have  none  of  it,”  he  concluded  with  de- 
jected voice. 

“ ’Tis  given  to  men  like  Philip,  who  have  an  appointed 
work,  to  escape  death  until  the  end  being  achieved  and  the 
Gods  wearying,  they  at  last  abandon  them  to  their  fate,” 
Olympias  exclaimed,  as  if  declaring  an  oracle. 


406 


Iskander 


“Then  let  us  await  the  hour,  nor  seek  to  do  a thing  con- 
trary to  the  will  of  the  Gods.” 

“The  Gods  have  already  decreed  Philip’s  death.  Such  is 
the  oracle,  and  doing  so  make  you  the  agent  of  their  di- 
vine will,”  Olympias  cried,  as  if  inspired. 

“The  Gods  have  declared  Philip’s,  the  King’s  death?” 
Pausanias  exclaimed  incredulously. 

“Yes,  and  most  particularly,”  she  went  on,  transfixing 
him  with  her  piercing  glance.  “For  thus  runs  the  Delphic 
oracle,  voiced  by  the  priestess  from  the  sacred  temple: 
‘The  bull  is  garlanded ; his  end  draws  near ; the  sacrificer 
stands  ready.’  Could  a thing  be  more  clearly  foretold  ? For 
’tis  plain  that  Philip  is  the  bull,  and  you  the  sacrificial 
agent  of  the  mighty  Gods,  for  you  only  have  the  fortitude 
to  perform  the  deed,”  Olympias  concluded  with  im- 
pressive voice. 

Deeply  excited,  his  vanity  stirred  to  the  utmost  pitch 
by  the  exalted  summons,  Pausanias  for  a long  time  re- 
mained silent.  At  last  raising  his  head  aloft  and  extend- 
ing his  hands  to  heavai  as  if  answering  the  command, 
he  cried  with  staring  eyes : 

“Enough ! The  Gods  ordain  his  end.  I will  obey.  ’Tis 
for  you,  oh  Queen,  to  devise  the  way — for  me  to  act,”  and 
turning  abruptly  he  rushed  from  the  room. 

“Vain,  deluded  fool,”  she  cried  as  she  saw  him  de- 
part. “I  will  find  a way,  and  if  you  fall  it  matters  little. 
Alexander  will  be  King ; and  Cleopatra !”  she  added,  chok- 
ing at  the  name,  as  she  raised  her  arms  in  a frenzy  of 
passion,  “not  all  the  Gods,  nor  Alexander’s  protecting 
arm,  shall  save  her  and  her  bastard  child  from  the  fury  of 
my  wrath.” 


407 


The  Death  of  Philip 

Assured  of  Pausanias’  firm  determination,  Olympias 
lost  no  time  in  sending  for  Clitus,  who,  with  his  compan- 
ions, occupied  a part  of  the  ancient  citadel  where  Alex- 
ander had  taken  up  his  abode.  Passing  over  his  greet- 
ing with  scant  notice,  the  great  Queen  exclaimed ; 

“What  think  you,  Clitus,  of  the  whisperings  about  the 
court?  The  sidelong  looks  which  Cleopatra’s  creatures 
cast  on  Alexander  as  he  passes?  By  the  Gods!”  she  went 
on  with  ferocious  energy,  “they  bode  no  good  to  him  or 
his  friends  if  I read  the  parasites  aright.” 

“I  know  not,  oh  Queen,  more  than  what  I see,  for  the 
fawning  sycophants  have  no  voice  when  I am  near,”  Cli- 
tus answered. 

“Does  the  Prince  give  the  matter  no  thought?  Does 
he  not  see  that  his  life  extends  not  beyond  the  completion 
of  this  vain  parade  and  the  departure  of  the  King’s 
guests?”  Olympias  cried  with  anxious  voice. 

“The  Prince  troubles  himself  not  at  all  with  such  mat- 
ters,” Clitus  answered  soberly,  “but  like  his  father  goes 
his  way  indifferent  to  what  his  enemies  may  do  or  say.” 

“And  so  being  off  his  guard  will  fall  as  Philip  will,”  she 
exclaimed,  giving  Clitus  a sidelong  look. 

“As  Philip  will?”  the  other  answered  sternly,  startled 
by  her  speech. 

“Yes,  as  Philip  will.  Where  is  all  your  cunning,  Clitus? 
Can  you  not  see  that  Caranus,  the  child  of  Eurydice — 
for  so  Philip  has  renamed  the  painted  strumpet  Cleopatra, 
to  make  her  claim  the  stronger — is  to  be  proclaimed  heir 
to  the  throne?  That  accomplished  and  Philip  being  no 
longer  needful,  he  will  fall  as  Perdiccas,  his  brother,  did.” 


408 


I skan  der 


“It  cannot  be.  The  mighty  King  is  not  thus  easily  to 
be  set  aside,”  Clitus  answered  resolutely. 

“He  is  in  the  hands  of  the  Gods  and  they  have  decreed 
his  death  from  Delphos’  sacred  altar,”  she  cried,  triumph- 
antly. “ ‘The  bull  is  garlanded  for  the  sacrifice.’  So  the 
oracle  runs,  and  Philip  dead  the  infant  will  be  thrust 
aside  as  Amyntas  was  and,  thus.  Attains  will  at  last  be 
King.” 

“Attains ! The  Gods  forbid !”  Clitus  exclaimed  deeply 
excited  by  what  the  other  said. 

“The  Gods  will  not  prevent  it,  more  than  in  Amyntas’ 
case,  if  Alexander’s  friends  stand  still  with  folded  arms,” 
she  cried. 

“After  Philip,  whether  he  die  of  old  age  or  the  thrust 
of  a dagger,  no  one  shall  succeed  him  but  Alexander,” 
Clitus  answered  resolutely.  “Nor  would  the  army  ac- 
knowledge another  King,”  he  went  on,  convinced  of  the 
truth  of  what  he  said. 

“The  army  will  hail  as  King  the  Prince  who  first 
mounts  the  throne.  Or  there  being  no  preference,  he  who 
promises  it  most.  If  Alexander  then  be  its  choice  ’tis  for 
his  friends  to  see  that  he  is  not  forestalled  by  rival  claim- 
ants as  will  surely  happen  if  they  stand  idly  by.” 

“No  other  can  be  crowned.  ’Tis  a thing  impossible.” 

“Not  more  impossible  than  the  overthrow  and  death  of 
an  hundred  expectant  Princes  in  the  lifetime  of  this  blood- 
soaked  country,”  she  answered.  “Amyntas,  who  plotted 
Philip’s  and  Alexander’s  death  at  Pella,  still  hopes  to  be 
King.  If  Philip  fall,  and  Attains  be  absent,  as  at  pres- 
ent, he  will  strive  for  the  crown,  and  so  striving  will  suc- 
ceed if  Alexander’s  friends  be  not  alert.” 


409 


The  Death  of  Philip 

“What  would  you  have?”  Clitus  responded,  surprised 
and  bewildered  by  what  he  heard;  for  it  was  not  as  if  she 
spoke  of  some  possible  event,  but  as  of  a thing  deter- 
mined and  of  certain  and  quick  occurrence,  of  which 
neither  he  nor  his  friends  had  any  knowledge  whatever. 

“I  would  have  you  form  an  impenetrable  guard  about 
Alexander’s  body,”  she  cried.  “Not  conspicuous  of  no- 
tice, but  of  real  substance  and  strength.  Thus  protected 
he  cannot  be  stricken  down  as  Amyntas  planned  at  Pella. 
If  Philip,  less  watchful,”  she  went  on  significantly,  “suc- 
cumb to  the  foes  he  protects  and  favors,  lose  not  a mo- 
ment in  proclaiming  Alexander  King.  It  matters  not  the 
place.  Then  hasten  with  all  speed  to  the  regal  palace 
and  occupying  it  proclaim  his  accession  there.  From 
thence  let  the  pronouncement  be  sounded  by  voice  and 
trumpet  throughout  the  city.  Lest  the  army  hesitate,  the 
Persian  invasion  must  be  proclaimed  anew,  with  prom- 
ises of  whatever  else  the  soldiers  crave.  Thus  will  the 
Prince  come  to  his  own  and  his  enemies  be  put  to  flight,” 
she  concluded,  as  if  declaiming  from  a written  proclama- 
tion. 

Clitus,  speechless,  astonished  beyond  thought  at  what 
he  heard,  made  no  answer  but  stood  gazing  with  leaden 
eye  on  the  undaunted  woman. 

Assured  at  last  of  Clitus’  fidelity,  she  dismissed  him, 
exclaiming : 

“Do  as  I command,  Clitus,  nor  breathe  what  I have 
said  to  any  save  Alexander’s  friends.  To  him  say  naught 
lest  the  succession  be  endangered  by  some  chivalrous  act 
and  our  enemies  triumph  over  him  as  well  as  the  King. 
There,  go!  And  remember  the  safety  of  the  monarchy 


410 


Iskander 


and  the  stay  of  Macedonia  lies  in  the  preservation  of 
Alexander’s  life.  That  is  your  office,  brave  man ; there  is 
no  other.” 

Thus  coldly  was  the  death  of  Philip  planned  and  the 
accession  of  Alexander  ordered  by  the  betrayed  and  re- 
lentless Queen. 

To  Philip  the  great  festival  now  in  progress  had  a 
purpose  outside  those  proclaimed,  and  of  far  greater  po- 
litical importance  to  him.  For  it  was  his  design  to  make 
the  world  feel  and  acknowledge  that  Macedonia  was  in 
every  way  a Grecian  state.  Master  of  Greece,  he  wished 
to  be  thought  a Greek.  In  furtherance  of  this,  the  games 
the  Greeks  loved  and  the  sacrifices  they  revered  were  con- 
ducted on  a scale  of  unparalleled  magnificence.  Inter- 
spersed with  these  were  sumptuous  banquets  and  grave 
ceremonials  of  state.  The  display  of  his  unrivaled  cav- 
alry and  infantry,  which  was  of  hourly  occurrence,  had 
too'  an  ulterior  purpose,  as  was  the  case  with  all  that  Philip 
did.  About  the  regal  palace  and  in  the  streets  of  the  an- 
cient city  the  music  of  flutes  and  clang  of  timbrels, 
mingled  throughout  the  day  with  the  barbaric  instru- 
ments of  the  mountain  tribes.  Dancing  girls  in  short 
tunics  of  brilliant  colors  accompanied  by  clowns  and 
strolling  players,  delighted  and  held  the  vast  throng  of 
common  people  who  filled  the  streets  and  houses.  In  the 
theaters,  that  nothing  might  be  wanting,  actors  from 
Athens  led  by  Neoptolemus  afforded  entertainment  and 
diversion  for  the  royal  family  and  their  distinguished 
guests.  At  night,  as  if  sleep  were  a thing  denied,  huge 
bonfires  illuminated  the  towering  cliffs  and  adjacent 
mountains,  casting  a lurid  light  over  the  city  and  sur- 
rounding country. 


411 


The  Death  of  Philip 

Such  was  the  interesting  and  varied  aspect  of  the  city 
as  the  culminating  event  of  the  great  festival  approached. 
Mindful  that  its  conclusion  should  accord  with  the  dig- 
nity of  the  King,  the  attendant  ceremonies  were  to  be  held 
in  the  royal  theater,  a stately  building  standing  conspicu- 
ously in  the  center  of  the  city.  As  this  would  hold  only 
the  distinguished  guests  of  the  King  and  Queen  it  was 
determined,  in  order  that  the  common  people  might  par- 
ticipate in  the  event,  that  the  procession  should  start  from 
the  regal  seat.  Accordingly  at  noon  on  the  eventful  day 
the  procession  formed  with  stately  ceremony  in  the  en- 
closure about  the  King’s  palace.  Issuing  from  the  gates 
it  was  preceded  by  mounted  troops,  followed  by  the 
King’s  musicians  in  their  varied  and  resplendent  cos- 
tumes. Afterwards  came  in  order  the  ministers  of  the 
King,  the  Princes  of  the  realm  and  the  representatives 
and  chiefs  of  the  visiting  states  and  tribes.  Following 
these  the  King’s  royal  pages  in  crimson  cloaks  and  waving 
plumes  added  to  the  moving  scene.  Back  of  these  were 
borne  aloft  statues^  of  the  twelve  Gods  of  Greece  and 
mingling  with  them  the  image  of  Philip,  who  thus  de- 
clared himself  one  of  their  number.  Behind  these  sacred 
emblems  the  King  walked,  unarmed,  dressed  in  a robe 
of  white.  Following  close  upon  his  person  and  adding  to 
the  splendor  of  the  spectacle,  came  the  royal  bodyguard, 
succeeded  by  troops  of  every  description  in  resplendent 
uniforms. 

Nearing  the  theater  amid  the  wild  acclaim  of  the  ex- 
cited throng,  Philip  motioned  his  guard  to  fall  back  that 
the  view  of  the  multitude  might  be  less  obstructed.  Pro- 
ceeding thus  alone,  he  slowly  approached  the  entrance 


412 


I skander 


to  the  vast  structure.  Observing  the  Prince  and  those  who 
had  followed  him  into  exile  standing  somewhat  apart,  the 
King  gravely  saluted  them,  smiling  his  pleasure  with  the 
action.  Alexander’s  companions  seeing  this,  fell  on  their 
knees,  overcome  by  the  unexpected  and  gracious  act,  and 
thus  they  remained  with  bowed  heads  until  the  King  had 
passed. 

Unconscious  of  danger  Philip  reached  the  entrance  to 
the  vast  structure  crowded  to  its  utmost  capacity.  Look- 
ing forward  he  beheld  Olympias  with  arm  uplifted,  her 
gaze  fixed  with  fiery  intensity  upon  some  object  to  his 
right.  Thinking  it  a signal  he  turned  his  head  curious  to 
know  the  cause,  and  as  he  did  so  Pausanias  suddenly 
emerged  with  wild,  distracted  air  from  the  sheltered  al- 
cove where  he  stood  concealed.  Drawing  a gallic  sword 
from  beneath  his  cloak  he  rushed  furiously  upon  the  un- 
armed King,  and  without  cry  or  speech  of  any  kind,  bur- 
ied the  glistening  blade  to  the  hilt  Philip’s  body.  The 
King,  sinking  down,  Pausanias  turned  and  ran  to  reach 
the  horse  that  awaited  him  without  the  enclosure,  but  trip- 
ping on  a vine  stalk  fell  to  the  ground  and  ere  he  could 
regain  his  feet  was  overtaken  and  put  to  death.  Such 
was  the  ending  of  this  vain  and  wretched  man  as  men 
saw  it  and  as  the  chroniclers  do  not  fail  to  recount. 

Filled  with  horror  at  the  cruel  deed  the  multitude  re- 
mained spellbound,  unable  to  move  or  cry  aloud.  Not  so 
those  privy  to  the  act.  Seeing  the  King  fall  Amyntas  and 
those  grouped  about  him  instantly  drew  their  swords, 
crying  “Treason ! Treason !’’  Hearing  the  familiar  cry  and 
observing  the  movements  of  the  conspirators,  Alexander’s 
friends  unsheathed  their  weapons  and  closed  about  their 


413 


The  Death  of  Philip 

beloved  Prince.  Seeing  this  Amyntas  and  his  compan- 
ions, after  advancing  some  distance,  turned  abruptly  away 
as  if  meditating  him  no  harm.  Alexander,  transfixed  with 
horror  and  all  unconscious  of  what  was  transpiring  about 
him,  arousing  himself,  ran  with  all  speed  to  where  the 
King  lay.  Reaching  his  side  he  knelt  and  tenderly  raised 
the  head  of  the  stricken  monarch,  resting  it  on  his  lap. 
Opening  his  eyes  and  recognizing  his  son,  Philip  clasped 
his  arms  about  Alexander’s  neck,  and  drawing  him  down 
kissed  him,  exclaiming,  as  he  struggled  for  utterance ; 

“My  hour  has  come;  ’tis  a thing  ordained,  and  you  will 
soon  be  King.  When  I am  dead  waste  not  the  precious 
moments,  but  hasten  to  proclaim  yourself  ere  those  who 
strive  for  the  crown  take  advantage  of  your  n^ligence. 
When  you  are  King,”  he  continued,  gasping  for  breath 
and  thinking  of  the  work  he  had  left  undone,  “marshal 
your  army  and  do  as  we  have  planned.  Having  con- 
quered Persia  and  your  power  being  then  secure,  seek 
your  love,  and  finding  the  sweet  Roxana,  make  her  your 
Queen.  ’Twas  an  ungracious  act,”  he  went  on;  with  a 
melancholy  smile,  “to  send  her  away,  and  if  I erred  you 
will  forgive  me  now,”  he  concluded,  struggling  against 
the  chill  of  death,  his  face  ashy  white. 

“Speak  not  of  such  a thing  at  such  a time,  father, 
wisest,  greatest  of  Kings,”  Alexander  cried  in  a choked 
voice  as  he  bent  over  and  kissed  the  face  of  the  dying 
monarch. 

“Raise  me  up,  Alexander,  for  it  grows  strangely  dark,” 
Philip  muttered  looking  about  him.  Distinguishing  the 
faces  of  Clitus  and  the  others  bending  over  him,  tears 
streaming  from  their  eyes,  he  smiled  with  something  of 


414 


Iskander 


the  bon  liomme  of  other  days,  saying;  “Have  I been 
a hard  master,  comrades?”  Then  lifting  his  dimmed  eyes 
that  his  last  look  might  dwell  on  the  face  of  his  immor- 
tal son,  he  went  on  with  voice  scarce  above  a whisper,  “I 
proclaim  Alexander  King.  Serve  him,  my  brave  soldiers, 
as  you  have  served  Philip,”  and  giving  a deep  sigh  the 
mighty  King  lay  dead. 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 

THE  FULFILLMENT  OF  LIFE's  IDEAL. 

Immediately  upon  the  death  of  Philip,  Alexander  was 
crowned  King  amidst  the  rejoicings  of  the  army  and  the 
people  of  Macedonia.  Stilling  the  internal  dissensions  of 
his  court,  he  presently  found  himself  beset  by  open  ene- 
mies on  all  the  borders  of  his  kingdom.  Armed  revolt  was 
everywhere  proclaimed  throughout  discordant  Greece,  the 
ignorant  multitude  inflamed  by  demagogues,  believing 
Macedonia  fatally  weakened  by  Philip’s  death.  Demos- 
thenes and  others  less  patriotic  than  he,  emerging  from 
their  retirement,  openly  advocated  an  alliance  of  the  Gre- 
cian states  against  the  military  power  of  Macedonia.  Ap- 
prised of  the  growing  discontent,  Alexander  collecting  his 
forces,  lost  no  time  in  marching  into  Greece.  Reaching 
Thessaly  he  reared  his  tent  in  the  slumbering  vale  of 
Tempe  on  the  spot  where  Roxana  and  he  had  first 
plighted  their  love.  Here,  beset  by  enemies  on  every  side, 
he  found  a melancholy  comfort  in  remembrance  of  the 
past;  and  in  the  stillness  of  the  night,  offering  sacrifice 
to  the  Gods,  he  looked  upward  to  the  snow-clad  summit 
of  the  Sabred  Moimtain,  glistening  amid  the  starlit  sky,  as 
he  renewed  his  vows  of  undying  constancy.  Comforted 
by  the  act  he,  on  the  morrow,  continued  his  march,  and 
this  to  a successful  conclusion.  For  the  Greeks,  unable  to 
withstand  his  invincible  army  or  firm  determination,  pro- 
claimed him  Imperator  as  they  had  Philip.  Thus  the  tran- 

(415) 


416 


Iskander 


quillity  of  Greece  was  assured;  a necessary  thing,  as  in 
Philip’s  reign,  for  without  it  the  Persian  invasion,  upon 
which  Alexander’s  mind  was  unalterably  fixed,  was  a 
thing  improbable  if  not  impossible. 

Returning  to  Macedonia  with  his  army  the  King 
marched  into  Thrace  and  so  to  the  north,  crossing  the 
Balkan  to  the  plains  beyond  where  the  savage  tribes  had 
collected  to  oppose  him.  Defeating  the  Triballi  in  a great 
battle,  wherein  three  thousand  of  the  enemy  were  slain, 
he  pursued  his  march  to  the  Danube.  Reaching  the  great 
river  he  crossed  it  in  the  night  on  improvised  boats  and 
rafts,  a thing  unexampled,  and,  attacking  the  enemy  in 
the  early  morning,  broke  their  ranks  and  put  them  to 
flight.  Offering  sacrifice  to  the  Gods  he  recrossed  the 
river,  and  marching  from  thence  through  the  mountain 
passes  of  the  north  came  upon  the  Illyrian  army  which 
had  been  gathered  about  Pelion  to  invade  his  country. 
Repulsed  in  the  first  onslaught  he  returned  in  the  night 
and  surprising  the  Illyrians  attacked  them  with  savage 
fury,  and  so  overcome  and  destroyed  their  army.  While 
thus  engaged  news  reached  him  that  Thebes  had  revolted 
and  was  besieging  the  Kadmeia,  a fortress  occupied  by 
Macedonian  soldiers,  on  the  outskirts  of  the  ancient  city. 
Losing  no  time  he  directed  his  course  towards  Greece, 
marching  through  the  mountain  defiles  of  Western  Mace- 
donia. Thus  it  turned  out  that  while  the  disaffected 
Grecians, having  heard  nothing  from  him  for  many  wedcs, 
believing  him  dead  and  his  anny  destroyed,  he  suddenly 
appeared  in  the  plains  of  Thessaly.  Reaching  Thebes,  and 
it  refusing  submission,  he  .stormed  the  walled  city,  and, 
capturing  it,  gave  it  over  to  pillage  by  his  soldiers. 


The  Fulfillment  of  Life’s  Ideal  417 


Conscious  at  last  that  the  power  of  Macedonia  had  been 
strengthened  rather  than  weakened  by  Philip’s  death,  the 
savage  tribes  sued  for  peace;  and  Greece,  humbled  and 
dejected,  sought  no  further  to  oppose  the  young  King’s 
will.  Returning  to  Macedonia  with  his  army  and  no 
longer  fearing  enemies  from  without  or  within,  he  hast- 
ened his  preparations  for  the  conquest  of  Persia.  So  it 
came  about  that  two  years  after  the  death  of  Philip  he 
crossed  the  Hellespont  into  Asia,  triumphant  over  all  who 
had  threatened  him  at  home  and  abroad. 

The  entrancing  image  of  his  love  Roxana  ever  before 
him,  Alexander  marched  straight  for  the  army  of  Darius, 
which  awaited  his  approach  on  the  further  shore  of  the 
river  Granicus.  Crossing  the  stream  in  the  face  of  the 
courageous  opposition  of  the  enemy,  the  army  of  the  great 
King  was  finally  overcome  and  its  scattered  fragments  put 
to  rout.  Turning  to  the  south  the  impregnable  citadel  of 
Sardis  was  surrendered  by  its  traitorous  governor,  Mith- 
rines,  without  a blow,  after  which  Alexander  quickly 
overrun  and  quieted  all  Asia  Minor.  Reaching  Syria  and 
the  eastern  shore  of  the  Mediterranean  he  met  and  de- 
stroyed the  Persian  army,  six  hundred  thousand  strong, 
at  the  great  battle  of  Issus,  where  he  captured  the  wife 
and  daughter  of  Darius.  Giving  them  tents  and  attend- 
ants apart,  and  treating  them  with  sovereign  honor,  he 
continued  his  march,  conquering  Sidon  and  Tyre,  and 
afterwards  Egypt.  His  base  at  last  secure,  he  set  his  face 
towards  Central  Asia,  where,  at  the  great  battle  of  Ar- 
bela,  he  overthrew  and  scattered  Darius’  army,  numbering 
a million  men.  This  culminating  victory  opened  to  him 
all  Central  Persia  and  its  capitals  and  the  accumulated 


418 


Iskander 


treasures  of  the  great  King,  amounting,  historians  aver, 
to  five  hundred  million  dollars  of  gold  and  silver.  In 
all  these  achievements,  so  glorious  and  unexampled,  Alex- 
ander was  followed  by  Clitus  and  the  cherished  friends 
who  had  accompanied  him  in  his  exile  from  Pella. 

Accepting  the  submission  and  homage  of  Babylon  and 
Susa  and  Persepolis,  the  birthplace  of  Persian  power, 
Alexander  was  proclaimed  King  of  the  vast  empire.  In- 
stituting orderly  governments  and  establishing  his  power 
throughout  all  the  conquered  territory  he  took  his  way  to 
the  far  East,  assured  at  last  of  the  consummation  of  his 
undying  passion. 

“Despair  not  of  thy  love,  oh  Prince,  until  twice  a King 
it  shall  still  be  denied  thee.” 

Overcoming,  one  by  one,  the  armies  and  walled  cities 
that  stood  out  against  him  in  Upper  and  Eastern  Asia,  he, 
at  length,  approached  the  stronghold  of  Persian  power  in 
far-off  Bactria.  Here,  the  brave  and  ever  loyal  Oxyartes, 
keeping  alive  the  flame  of  patriotism  to  the  last,  refused 
submission  to  the  young  conquerer  from  the  summit  of 
his  rock-bound  citadel.  Scaling  the  heights  that  over- 
looked the  towering  fortress,  on  a dark  and  stormy  night 
in  midwinter,  Alexander  effected  the  capture  of  the  cit- 
adel by  stratagem,  and  so,  at  length,  found  his  love,  Rox- 
ana. 

Granting  the  soldiers  a respite  from  all  their  toils,  and 
rewarding  them  with  honors  and  munificent  gifts,  Alex- 
ander gave  up  the  days  to  love  and  the  nights  to  feasting. 
At  last,  the  contemplated  conquest  of  India  drawing  near, 
he  publicly  espoused  Roxana,  proclaiming  her  Queen  of 
Macedonia  and  Persia,  amid  the  rejoicings  of  his  follow- 


The  Fulfillment  of  Life’s  Ideal  419 


ers  and  the  delight  of  his  Persian  subjects.  When  in  this 
way  his  every  ambition  and  desire  had  been  gratified 
Alexander,  transported  with  joy,  knelt  before  his  love,  and 
kissing  her  with  rapturous  passion,  exclaimed : 

“Beloved  of  heart,  now  at  last  you  are  mine.  Now  at 
last  my  every  hope  and  dream  of  life  is  fulfilled.  Now 
at  last  and  in  all  honor  and  glory  do  my  brave  Macedon- 
ians possess  a Queen  worthy  their  great  achievements  and 
years  of  patient  waiting.” 

“And  now  at  last,  sweet  love,  do  I regain,  and  wholly, 
my  true  and  simple  Prince,  Iskander,”  she  murmured, 
bending  over  and  kissing  his  upturned  face,  tears  of  joy 
filling  her  beautiful  eyes. 

Thus  their  union  was  consummated,  and  the  hearts  that 
love  alone  bound  were  united  in  happiness  and  honor, 
never  again  to  be  parted. 


THE  END. 


tbc  Romance  of  gilbert  Bolmes 

AN  HISTORICAL  NOVEL 

By  MARSHALL  MONROE  KIRKMAN 


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simple  brethren.  Among  the  more  exalted  of  these  who  have  commended  its  worth,  beauty 
and  artistic  merit  may  be  mentioned  Her  Late  Most  Gracious  Majesty,  Queen  Victoria;  His 
Imperial  Majesty,  The  Czar  of  Russia;  His  Majesty,  the  late  King  Humbert  of  Italy;  His 
Majesty,  Leopold,  King  of  Belgium;  His  Majesty,  the  King  of  Greece. 

The  Prices  Delivered  are  as  Follows: 

Portfolio  Size:  Edition  de  Luxe,  Seal  Grain  Leather,  Padded  Sides,  Gold  Center  and 

Back  Stamp,  Gilt  Edges $11-50 

“ “ Seal  Grain  Leather,  Flat,  Gold  Center  and  Back  Stamp,  Gilt  Edges. . 10.50 

“ “ Best  Cloth  (Combination),  Gold  Center  and  Back  Stamp,  Gilt  Edges  8.50 

PUBLISHERS 

THE  WORLD  RAILWAY  PUBLISHING  COMPANY 

CHICAGO. 


